


Recursive

by karygurl



Category: Seduce Me (Visual Novel)
Genre: A little bit of everything, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut, multiple AUs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 71,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karygurl/pseuds/karygurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Carrie's backstory, slightly alternate canon. A demon working as a police officer and an architectural consultant meet at a haunted house, but don’t realize the long history of cursed stories that haunt them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Carrie was used to encountering strange circumstances in her job as a historical architectural consultant. For the most part they no longer fazed her, whether they were coincidental or supernatural; she was a witch, after all. Her latest job was to inspect an old Chicago greystone home, and the ghost girl she was currently playing hide and seek with barely made her bat an eye.  


After chasing the ghost through the house, finding her in closets and under dusty, abandoned furniture, she had finally followed the apparition to the top floor’s master bedroom. Carrie had drawn a magic circle in the ashes left in the fireplace, augmenting her true seeing spell so that she could see the ghost’s form instead of just a shimmering outline. She was just peeking up the chimney of the fireplace when the girl’s face popped down from the flue, surprising her, and she nearly tumbled backwards.

Carrie felt a hand grab hold of her arm and she nearly jumped sideways at the sensation. Who else was in the house?! Her head whipped around as she tipped back, and her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of tattooed skin and menacing green horns before she stepped backward and out of range of the magic circle. 

Her vision adjusted to see a policeman behind her holding her up by her arm, giving her a once over as he waited for her to catch her footing. “Are you alright?”

The glimpse Carrie had seen hadn’t been clear, but it still hung over her vision like a hazy projected image that hung over his form. There was only one explanation for an appearance like that: demon. But… policeman demon? Why would he bother with that kind of image for his glamor spell? Was he trying to get her to lower her guard?

She found her footing slowly, not wanting to startle him either. “I’m fine, thanks.”

The policeman looked over toward the fireplace and frowned, his hand relaxing its hold as he cocked his head. “Did the ghost scare you?”

Carrie almost laughed. He looked completely serious, eyeing the fireplace with suspicion rather than surprise or fear. He was definitely a demon; no human would believe so readily in ghosts unless they were a warlock or witch like her, and she liked to think she was tuned enough to others’ energies that she would have been able to tell if that were the case. She couldn’t feel that kind of energy from him, but there was an intensity to him that put her on edge, almost like a tuning fork out of sight that she could still feel the vibrations of. He was doing a good job of masking it, but she could tell there was quite a bit of power behind him.

“The ghost… Yeah, I’ve been chasing her around the house.” Carrie straightened and tugged on the hem of her pinstriped blazer, settling her weight evenly onto her feet in case she needed to bolt. The glamored demon seemed more interested in the ghost than her at the moment, but she was still on guard. “May I ask what you’re doing here?”

He turned to her then and shifted his weight to one foot. “Officer Sam Anderson, Chicago PD. Got a call that the house was haunted and they wanted to send someone to investigate.” His lips curled at his cheek on one side, turning into a rueful almost grin. “I’m the rookie so of course they sent me.” His eyes flicked downward, then back up to her face. “What’s your business here, ma’am? I was told this house was abandoned.”

Carrie’s purse was slung over her shoulder, so she spun it around so that it settled against her stomach and she envisioned the paperwork she needed, hoping he didn’t peer too closely into her endless satchel. Her fingers brushed against the paperwork in the void and she pulled it out quickly before shutting it and handing it to the “officer.” 

“Carrie Marilith, I’m an architectural consultant. I was hired to inspect the building, but when I was finishing up, this girl found me and I’ve been trying to find out what she wants.”

A giggle echoed from the fireplace, and Carrie turned to see the girl peeking down from the chimney, her innocent wide grin making her want to smile. “Yes, I’m talking about you.”

Sam nodded and handed the paperwork back to Carrie, who slipped it back into the void in her purse. He turned toward the fireplace and cocked his head to the side, angling his head so it lined up just a bit with hers. “Is there something you need?”

The ghost girl didn’t answer, her grin turning into a pout before she disappeared back up the fireplace. 

“She’s been playing hide and seek with me, but she’s stopped here,” Carrie offered, still wondering what “Sam” was after. “I think it’s something around this fireplace but I haven’t had a chance to look yet.”

“I’m not sure what I can do to help, but I’m here to help clear up the issue so let me know.” She watched warily as Sam moved to the window just to the left of the fireplace and pulled the heavy drapes aside, looking down at the street. She rocked forward on her toes just enough to see a cop car parked at the curb as he keyed the radio on his shoulder. “Found the ghost, gonna try to see what it wants.”

His partner’s chuckle couldn’t be masked, even with the radio static. “Yeah, you do that, Sam.”

Carrie turned to look at the fireplace with a critical eye, though she was certainly distracted enough that her gaze made several passes. He had a partner waiting outside? Unless he was going for an overly complicated illusion, then him being a police officer wasn’t just a glamor spell. Not to mention his partner’s condescension; sending a rookie cop to a “haunted house” sounded enough like something an experienced officer would do to haze his newbie partner. 

Sam turned back from the window and she pulled her eyes away from him to return her gaze to the fireplace. When had she started staring at him? Not that she could blame herself, there was no way to deny that he was attractive. It was making her skin just a little warm thinking of those stunning green eyes on her; even without the glimpse she had caught of him beneath his glamor spell, she would have suspected that bright emerald was supernatural. 

His presence was distracting her, and she needed to focus. Hopefully his cover story for being in the house was as innocuous as it seemed, she wasn’t convinced but she would have to figure it out later. 

Eyes scanning the brick in front of her, she didn’t detect anything strange about the fireplace; it was a standard brick fireplace from the period it was built in the 1890s, tucked away inside the blind dormer so that its brickwork didn’t show and disrupt the facade of the greystone that Chicago was known for. She thought back to the front of the house, the way the dormer stuck out from the face of the building, and realized there was plenty of space behind the fireplace; enough for a crawlspace of some kind?

Eyes moving to the walls next to the fireplace, she nearly kicked herself for not realizing that there was a rough panel to the right of the brick that had been patched sometime in the past. She moved towards it, fingers reaching out to brush the faint bulge in the plaster. It was repaired fairly well, but plaster and lath like the walls in that particular building were difficult to repair on one’s own; a plasterer was needed to get it flush again.

“Find something?” Sam’s voice startled her (she knew he was there, why had he surprised her?) and she snapped her attention over to him, only to see him raise his hands slightly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to break your concentration. I just don’t know the first thing about what the hell a ghost would want.”

“Usually some kind of unfinished business, though figuring out what that is exactly is usually quite a feat.” Carrie rapped her knuckles on the wall; sure enough, it sounded more hollow than it should. They had skimped on the wooden lath when they repaired it. “I’m thinking it might have something to do with the dead space behind this wall, it looks like it’s been opened before and then repaired. Any chance that your partner has tools in the car that he could use to help me open this wall back up?” She had the tools in her purse, but hell if she could explain away pulling a sledgehammer out of her bag. He didn’t seem to realize that she was a witch yet, and she wanted to keep it that way.

His response to her request was a suspicious look. “They let you just walk in and start ripping down walls?”

Internally she grit her teeth; this happened all the time, no one ever bothered to read the paperwork even when it was right in front of their faces. She tried to remind herself to be polite. “Didn’t you read my license? I’m authorized to perform minor demolition in the course of my investigative work. Tearing down a wall is hardly the worst thing I’ve done.”

Sam shrugged before stepping up to the wall and standing next to her, eyeing the plaster critically. “Does it have to be neat?”

“Not at all, the repair job was pretty poorly done so it’ll need to be redone anyway–”

She was cut off by a blur of motion and the crack of shattering material. She instinctively took a step back, right as Sam pulled backward and tore a large chunk of plaster off of the wall. The dry, musty air that wafted toward her from the dark space beyond the wall only barely registered with her senses; she was still focused on the man next to her that was busying himself with pulling down more sections of the plaster with far too much ease. Definitely not human. Honestly if she didn’t know much about building construction she’d assume he was just strong, but she knew how durable horsehair plaster was at this thickness, especially with redwood lath and a particularly tough skim coat. Nails couldn’t even penetrate it; his bare hands shouldn’t have been able to break through the thick wall.

Snapping her in half would probably be all too easy for him. Either he didn’t want to hurt her (because it was obvious he had more than enough physical prowess to overpower her), or he was toying with her. She was hoping for the former; even knowing he was a demon, she couldn’t detect any kind of manipulative vibe from him. He simply seemed intent on solving this ghost mystery.

Carrie was pulled out of her thoughts as he stepped back from the open hole now present in the wall, large enough for her to step through. She quickly pulled a flashlight from her purse and flicked the switch before stepping forward into the space behind the fireplace.

It was a simple walled off space; its only purpose was to create a small outcropping so that the roofline looked symmetrical and pleasing from the street. The floor was basic pine boards, and the brick from the fireplace continued along the wall. And against the fireplace…

Carrie’s breath left her in a soft sigh as her flashlight passed over a small, huddled bundle on the floor. The words, “Oh, there you are, sweetie,” slipped past her lips as the beam of light illuminated the dull off-white of bone peeking out from under the cloth. 

The light was enough to make out the face of the ghost poking through the back of the fireplace. The girl didn’t look down, only over at Carrie, pale lips forming a small pout.

“Shit…” Sam’s soft exclamation next to her startled her again, and the flashlight beam bounced as she jumped just a little. She hadn’t seen him come into the space after her. “Is that her?”

Carrie nodded, not trusting her voice right away. She swallowed thickly, returning her gaze to the ghost and curling her lips in an attempt at a small smile. “Did I win our hide and seek game?”

When the ghost nodded, Carrie continued. “Let’s play a new game, then. Can you pretend that it’s Christmas and Santa Claus is coming?”

The ghost tilted her head, and Carrie backtracked. “Ah, Saint Nicholas?”

Recognition sparked as an echoing, soft giggle came from the fireplace; it didn’t seem to emanate from the ghost’s mouth, but her spirit in general. “All right sweetie, just pretend it’s Christmas Eve and you’re waiting for Saint Nicholas. When you wake up, you’ll have a wonderful surprise waiting for you. Okay?”

The ghost nodded rapidly before dissipating, and Carrie slipped past Sam back out of the dead space and stepped over to the fireplace. When he hadn’t emerged just yet, she quickly stuck out a toe and smudged up the ashes in the fireplace, disrupting the magic circle she had drawn so that the true seeing spell was dispelled. Hopefully Sam hadn’t noticed it?

He finally emerged from the dead space behind the wall when she was pulling out her phone, his brows drawn together. She held up her phone, offering him a small smile; she rarely found bodies in her investigations, but this little girl unfortunately wasn’t the first. If he really was a rookie cop, then he probably wasn’t sure what to do. “Do you know Trevor in forensics?” 

Sam’s frown deepened before he shook his head. 

“He’s my contact for when I find… things, during my investigation. He’ll take it over from here.” She hit the ‘dial’ button and held the phone up to her ear, turning and stepping aside toward the window. Cop car was still there.

“Hello?” Trevor picked up quickly, as usual.

“Hey Trevor, it’s Carrie. I’ve got a DB for you.” 

“Really?” She could hear his chair scoot backwards; he always did make it a point to rush to his investigations. It was one of the reasons she loved working with him, he never kept her waiting longer than necessary. “Where are you right now?”

“One of the greystones on Southwest Alder. It’ll be hard to miss, there’s a police cruiser parked right out front. Apparently someone called in about a haunted house? One of your officers is here now actually, I was doing an inspection when he showed up.”

“…You’re joking. The whole station thought it was hilarious that dispatch sent Sam over there; apparently he radioed to his partner that he ‘found the ghost’ and everyone’s been dying of laughter ever since. You actually found something? A DB you said?”

“Mmhmm. Just bone left so I’m sure it’s old, though I’m not the forensics expert.” 

She heard the jingle of keys sliding into the ignition of a car, followed by the dull roar of an engine coming to life. “Has Sam seen the DB yet?”

“Mmhmm. Not much to see, though.” 

“Still not an easy thing to look at, especially for the first time.”

“That new?” She hoped Trevor caught her drift; she wanted a little more information on the demon masquerading as a cop. It was looking more and more likely that he was just trying to fit in with the rest of the human world, but she wanted to be sure. 

“Yeah. Didn’t go to the academy, but he impressed the recruiter so much that they brought him on anyway.” Road noise dominated the line for several seconds before he continued. “Is that what you’re fishing for? I haven’t worked with him personally but I don’t think you have to worry about him too much, Carrie.”

_Oh, you have no idea, Trevor_. “Thanks, Trevor. I’ll see you when you get here.” Hanging up the call, she turned toward Sam again and gave him a small smile. “He should be here shortly. After he arrives I’m sure it’ll get taken off of your hands, that’s usually what the detectives too.” 

“Back to beat cop work, nothing wrong with that though,” Sam said as he shrugged. “I’m sure I won’t be off the hook just yet though, got to fill out a report. Never realized being a cop would be so much paperwork.” 

Carrie grinned. “I hear you, I’ve had to work with the police a few times when I’ve found odd things in my investigation and they always make you fill out paperwork for every detail.” She glanced toward the hole in the wall, a slight chill running over her skin. Though her curiosity was making her want to look again, she didn’t want to disturb the scene, and more than that, it felt wrong to stare at the poor girl. She idly wondered if she had been put back there before or after she died.

Glancing over at Sam, she saw his eyes dart to the dead space as well, probably feeling the same thing. The panicky edge was fading at finding a demon; she ran into them occasionally and had no problems, she didn’t know why he set her on edge. Something about him, she supposed. _For instance, something about him being ridiculously attractive? Just look at his arms in that uniform_ –

Carrie shut down that thought and busied herself with slipping her phone back into her purse. Stupidly hot guy in a cop uniform. If not for the glimpse she had caught while she had seen through his glamor spell or the partner she had heard him radio outside, she would have almost assumed he was a stripper. _Ridiculously_ attractive was right.

“Officer…” The word slipped out of her mouth and she caught herself before she winced. She didn’t even know what she was going to say, but it was a little late now that he was turning to look at her. She scrambled to think of something, but he beat her to the punch.

“Don’t call me that, just ‘Sam’ is fine. Even the punk brats on my beat call me Sam.”

She nodded and worked her tongue in her mouth, glancing over to the fireplace and the disturbed ashes in the fireplace. “Sure, Sam. Listen, if you don’t mind me asking, could you do me a favor? …Don’t mention the ghost to anyone if they ask. I don’t think they’d believe you, so they’ll probably just tease you about it anyway.” 

He shrugged and nodded, just in time for the creak of a door downstairs to disrupt them. Sam held up a finger to her and headed for the bedroom door to check on who it was, and Carrie let out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding.

A few moments later, Sam returned with a cop she didn’t recognize and Trevor trailing behind him, both men carrying cases in their hands. The man she didn’t know reached forward and held out his hand, and she instinctively reached forward and shook it with with an assertive squeeze. “Officer Robert Downs, ma’am. I hope my rookie partner didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“Not at all, he was particularly helpful, thank you,” she responded with a smile. She then reached out to Trevor and shook his hand as well. “Good to see you, Trevor. She’s through the hole in the wall here.”

Officer Downs frowned. “Was that hole in the wall open when you arrived?”

“No, sir. Sam helped me open it up.”

“She likes to tear apart old buildings to see what makes them tick,” Trevor cast a grin over his shoulder as he strode forward toward the hole in the wall. “I’m assuming that’s the case here, Carrie?”

She hummed her assent, and watched as Robert handed the case in his hands to Sam. “I’ll go check out the DB with Detective Elvey, you should get a head start on your report.”

Carrie could barely make out Sam grumbling under his breath as he pulled a laptop from the case and set it down on a built in shelf on the wall. The computer’s screen blinked on relatively quickly, though the interface was a dingy, blocky grey and white that looked like it belonged in the nineties. 

Murmurs from Trevor and Robert floated out from the alcove behind the fireplace, but Carrie’s eyes were lingering on the way Sam’s fingers were hesitating over the keys. She could tell he was concentrating, eyes flicking across the keyboard, typing one letter at a time in slow succession. The realization struck her suddenly: _he was struggling to read_.

He hadn’t read her license not because he was lazy, but because it would have taken him too long to read it. Of course, demons outside of nobility weren’t given the chance to learn to read. He was probably trying to fit in and didn’t realize how much reading was required in the human world, let alone for a police officer position with reports being required for nearly every call. “ _Never thought being a cop would require so much paperwork_ ,” he had said. Poor guy.

A wave of sympathy washed over her and she glanced at the hole in the wall, noting that both Trevor and Robert were still engrossed in their work. Her feet carried her over to Sam and she peered around him to the screen. “Hey, do you mind if I take a peek?”

He turned and stepped back just slightly, and before he had finished uttering, “Huh?” she was squeezing into the space between him and the laptop, leaning to the side to have full access to the keyboard. She hadn’t actually entered data in this program before but it was old and straightforward enough that it was fairly simple: date, time of call, responding officer’s name, involved persons, description of altercation. Her fingers tapped away quickly, filling out the information for him. She tried to keep the descriptions brief and abrupt, since she had a feeling that would be his writing style. Her ears were still focusing on the muffled conversation from the dead space behind the fireplace; she didn’t want to get caught doing Sam’s work for him. Her ears were also burning at feeling the warmth coming from his body at her back, but she was trying to focus on filling in the report’s blanks so she allowed herself a small shiver but continued typing.

When she was finished she stepped back quickly, looking over her shoulder to make sure that the officer and detective were still distracted. Thank goodness they were. She glanced over at Sam who was still standing back from the laptop, watching her with widened eyes. “Sorry, I hope that was okay? I thought I’d save you some of the hassle. Feel free to change any of that up, I’ve just been through this enough times that I know the procedure so I thought I’d help out and save you some of the trouble.” 

His wide eyes were still trained on her, pupils slightly dilated, and it took him a moment to shake himself out of it. “Yeah… Yeah, thanks. Reports are pretty dumb, huh?”

Her lips curled into a smile at that, hoping she hadn’t angered him by stepping in. “Definitely.” 

When Trevor finished his investigation he went through the motions of interviewing her, and she answered his questions with ease. She promised to forward him the information she had regarding the history of the home and each of its past owners; it was research she had already completed, one of the usual steps in her architectural investigations. Officer Downs worked on coordinating the photographer and other crime scene investigators who arrived shortly after who would help get the scene under control. 

After Trevor’s interview with her was finished, he gave his usual spiel about asking her to be available in case she needed to come to the station to answer any follow up questions, and she agreed as always. She reached into her purse and conjured her business cards, though she hesitated and chewed on her lip before handing it to Trevor and asking him to pass it on to Sam. The house had become abuzz with police activity and she had lost sight of him in the interim. He took it and nodded his assent and she stood to leave, squeezing past several officers to exit the building. 

The front walk had police tape already stretched across it; was that really necessary? The house had been empty since the recession when the former owners had foreclosed, and it was still owned by the bank. With so many police officers around, it was highly doubtful that anyone would even want to get close to it, but then again, she supposed they were following procedure.

As she headed down the front walk and over to the sidewalk, she noticed how many police cruisers were double parked on the street. Thank goodness she had taken the bus, or she would have never gotten out of there.

“Hey! Carrie!”

She turned quickly to see Sam emerging from the house, walking toward her quickly. His pace slowed as he approached, and his brow furrowed. Was something wrong?

He stopped a few feet away from her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His hand shot up to the back of his neck and his eyes darted away briefly before meeting hers. “Hey, Carrie, do you… Ugh. I mean, can I see you again? Not like for police work or anything, just… Fuck, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

_Oh_. Her brain ground to a halt temporarily. He wanted to see her again? “I asked Trevor to give you my card,” were the words that came out of her mouth, and she almost smacked herself. 

“Yeah, but I thought… Nevermind.” 

He was already stepping backward when she leaned forward, trying to bridge a bit of the space between them. “No, I mean, my cell number’s on my card, so yeah, we can…” _Words, Carrie, use your damn words already!_ She swallowed as she nodded to give herself time to come up with something actually useful to say. “Um, so, if you don’t mind me asking, when’s your shift over?”

Sam still looked unsure, but he lowered his hand to his side. “Midnight, it’s a twelve to twelve shift.”

She was normally an early bird, but she could work with that. “Are you usually hungry after your shift? I know there’s a Denny’s just down the street from the police station in this precinct. I could meet you there after your shift?”

His face relaxed, lips not quite smiling yet but lifting from his frown. “Yeah, sure. See you there?”

She nodded, waved and turned, walking away with her ears feeling like they were burning. The urge to look behind her to see if he was watching her was strong but she didn’t want to seem like she was mooning over him. 

Her feet carried her toward the bus stop but her mind was just a bit stuck on Sam. She had met plenty of demons, though she hadn’t met one before who held such a public position; they usually prefered to keep to themselves to blend in. Being a police officer wasn’t particularly low visibility. Why was he in the human world? And why had he chosen such an attractive glamor spell?

Though, from the glimpse she had seen of his true demon form, the hair and eyes were just about the same; he was just missing the horns and markings on his skin. The muscles certainly seemed natural to his true form as well.    
_Speaking of mooning over him…_ Ah, hell. She didn’t mean to do it but he was objectively attractive, not to mention she had a weakness for green eyes. Especially eyes like his, bright grassy green, stunning in their vibrancy. _Lord_.

And now she had a… what? Date? Hangout? _Who the hell knows_. He had seemed pretty down to business but she had caught him off guard somehow and she wasn’t sure what he had been thinking. Did he realize she was a witch yet? Her instinct told her no, but she couldn’t be sure. She also wasn’t sure how much they could discuss about that in public. The scene played through her head: “Hey Sam, so I’m a witch, and I noticed that you’re a demon. How’s that working for you? Tell me all about it!” Yeah, right. 

She had arrived at the bus stop and turned herself to face the direction she expected the bus to arrive from, but her mind was still far away from the mundane street around her. Something about Sam just sparked her curiosity; maybe it was because he was a bit of an enigma, a demon taking up a highly visible public position, the mission of which was to protect humans. Maybe it was the power she felt from him; he kept it well hidden but there was a hum to him that he couldn’t mask. Or maybe it was just that he was attractive and she was making up all kinds of excuses to see him again.

The bus pulled up to the bus stop but she didn’t realize it was there until the doors popped open, startling her out of her internal monologue. She hurriedly pulled her wallet out of her purse and tapped it as she got on the bus, not wanting to keep the bus driver waiting. The driver’s surly side long glance was enough to make her rush down the aisle to pick out a seat as the bus pulled away from the curb.


	2. Chapter 2

Time passed in lurching stops and spurts through the evening as Carrie waited for midnight. Carrie started counting the hours after she ate a little something for dinner to help tide her over until midnight, but the clock just wasn’t seeming to move much. When she had about four hours until she needed to leave, she bundled up a couple loads of dirty clothes and hauled them down to the basement of her building where the laundry room was. Luckily it was late enough that most people were more focused on dinner than clean clothes, so she managed to snag a couple machines to run simultaneously.  


Of course she got distracted browsing the internet, so after the timer on her phone went off and she pulled herself away to transfer her laundry into the dryer, she lost track of time and suddenly had twenty minutes left until she had to leave. She scrambled to load all of the clothing into one basket and haul the pile back to her apartment, dumping it on her bed and trying to dig through everything to find the one piece of clothing she had wanted to wear. Of course she couldn’t even remember what it was, or the outfit she had planned, so she gave up and ended up grabbing her red sweater, some jeans and her brown and red leather boots and called it good.

Going from zero to sixty when she realized she didn’t have much time left meant of course that she arrived at Denny’s early. She pulled the keys from the ignition and stuffed them into her pocket, then dug around to find her purse in the footwell of the passenger side of her car. She pulled her phone from her purse’s void, then unlocked the screen and eyed the messaging icon. Quickly she tapped it and began a message to her friend Noryn, whom she was certain was awake. 

Carrie: I can’t believe I’m still up.  
Noryn bby: wha…? is the world ending? whater you doin up this late??  
Carrie: Sitting at Denny’s waiting for someone.  
Noryn bby: is it like someone or SOMEONE?  
Noryn bby: CARRIE ARE YOU MEETING A GUY

Fuck. This is what she got for being too nervous to go inside by herself: the third degree. She couldn’t even tell her friend about Sam being a demon, so the slightly complicated situation would essentially boil down to, “I met a cop and he’s hot.” No way was she getting out of being horrendously teased if she typed that out.

Noryn bby: i knew it  
Noryn bby: why denny’s tho  
Noryn bby: i mean it’s late, but you got this!  
Noryn bby: order up a grand slam and spankcakes!!  
Noryn bby: is he gonna spread his sausage gravy all over your warm biscuit booty  
Noryn bby: i bet he wants a bite of those melons  
Carrie: I just met him today, chill! He’s not here yet and I’m nervous about going inside okay??  
Noryn bby: oh my god  
Noryn bby: neesan let me love you  
Noryn bby: leT ME SMOTHER YOU IN LOVE UNTIL HE GETS THERE  
Carrie: Omg love you too XD  
Noryn bby: or like, seduce him with your punctuality, idk  
Noryn bby: make him swoon at the sight of you at the table  
Noryn bby: then he can slather you in his love syrup  
Carrie: Ughhh I guess I should just get out of the car and just go  
Noryn bby: that’s the spirit! sending my luck to you <3  
Noryn bby: (slurp up that batter)

Carrie was going to need it… the luck, not the euphemisms. Still, that little exchange made her smile and gave her the push she needed to grab her purse and get out of her car. The parking lot was mostly empty, but she glanced around to make sure she wouldn’t be hit as she made her way toward the warm glow passing through the glass of the front doors.

After explaining to the hostess that she was waiting for someone, she was seated in a booth by the front door so she’d be able to spot Sam quickly. Not that it would be that hard for him to find her, the restaurant was relatively quiet with only a fraction of the tables taken, but it was still a good idea to make herself easy to find.

Her waitress stopped by with a glass of water and two menus, and then she was left alone to wait. Her eyes kept darting to the entrance to the restaurant of their own accord every time the front door opened, though she tried to pull her gaze away immediately so she wasn’t staring down every stranger who walked in. 

Luckily Sam arrived a few minutes later, and Carrie straightened and waved to him until she caught his attention. He grinned as he headed over to her booth, and she looked down at the table to avoid staring at him as he approached. Still, she caught a good view of his outfit, cargo pants and some sleeveless vest that she bet would look silly on most guys, but with Sam’s broad shoulders and muscular arms, he had no problem pulling it off. Green high top chucks slipped passed her view as he sat down in the booth, and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at seeing those.  


“Sorry if I made you wait, had to get out of my uniform and stuff.”

“No worries! I wasn’t doing anything tonight anyway.” _Yes, Carrie, please tell him exactly how boring you are_. “How was the rest of your shift?”

“Not bad. Starving though.” He reached for the menu and she did at the same time, though he continued speaking while he flipped through the pages. “Spooked most of my coworkers, they thought the haunted house call was a joke. Didn’t expect me to actually find a body hidden in the wall. Do you find stuff like that a lot?”

Carrie pulled the menu toward her and opened it, even though she already knew what she wanted. While she loved cooking, she couldn’t justify the space a waffle maker would take up in her packed kitchen so she always got one when she went out as compensation. “Bodies not so much, though I have found a few before. I’m there to look for architectural weaknesses, like that wall that they did a crappy job of patching the plaster on. Usually I find much more boring things, like frayed knob and tube wiring that’ll catch the place on fire or a gas pipe that’s leaking.”

“So you’re not like a ghostbuster or anything?”

She glanced up to see him grinning at her over the menu, and she smiled wider in response. “No, not at all. Just a glorified inspector.” She glanced down at the menu again but gave a short laugh as a memory surfaced in her mind. “There was this one time I was checking for structural insulation in an old house out in the suburbs, and I kept hearing this sound in the wall. It was kind of like a hum, so I actually thought it might be a ghost or something, but nope. Turned out that the wall cavity was filled to the brim with bees.”

Sam’s hand froze in midair as he was about to turn a page of the menu. “…Bees? Seriously?”

“Yeah, they got into the wall somehow and over time built this gigantic hive, it looked like this massive honeycomb was just dripping down the wall. Had to find a beekeeper to get rid of them all. I got a huge jar of free honey out of the deal though, so I couldn’t really complain.”

“Did you get stung?”

“Nah, I got lucky.” Well, that was half right; it was pretty much luck that she threw up a wall of magical force in time to keep the bees from swarming her. Usually her reaction time was pretty pathetic.

Her voice trailed off as their waitress approached and asked if they were ready to order. When Sam nodded, Carrie followed suit and the waitress looked at her for her order first. Once she had requested her favorite (Belgian waffle with a side of bacon), the waitress turned to Sam. Carrie was just shutting her menu when she heard him say, “I want this,” and smack his finger on the menu as he pointed to something.

She tipped her menu up to hide her smile, because even biting her lip wasn’t keeping her lips from splitting into a wide grin. Though she couldn’t see, she just knew he was pointing at a picture. As the waitress quizzed him on what sides he’d like, she fought to control her expression. _You seriously need to learn how to read, you dork._

It took until Carrie handed the menu to the waitress to notice the girl looked a little dazed, and she gave Carrie a sheepish little shrug when she took her menu in hand. Carrie grinned in response, her shoulders lifting just a little with silent laughter as the waitress left. Damn demon being so distracting.

She looked over across the booth to see Sam watching her, and her mind immediately blanked. She pulled her eyes away to keep from staring again, and her fingers wrapped around her water glass and brought it to her lips to help buy time. Tiny sips of water passed into her mouth and she swallowed slowly, deliberately, because she knew if she didn’t concentrate then she’d probably choke and look even more like an idiot than she already did. Ugh, she hated feeling so damn self-conscious.

Once she put her cup down again, she watched the path her fingertips traced along the condensation on the glass to keep from looking up at him initially. She didn’t trust herself to not openly stare at him at this point so she was concentrating on looking elsewhere and only glancing up when she needed to. “So, Sam, are you a Chicago native?”

Carrie caught the shake of his head when she looked up at him briefly. She didn’t want to seem too rude, either. “Definitely not from around here. My brothers and I traveled a lot, but we moved here a couple months ago and it looks like we’ll be staying for the long haul.”

“Brothers, huh?” She raised an eyebrow and gave him an exaggerated once over. “Let me guess, you’re the older brother?”

He grinned and leaned back, his elbows rising to rest on the back of the booth cushion. “Older brother? Is that what I act like?”

She shrugged in response. “Honestly, I’m pretty bad when it comes to judging people, so take anything I say with a grain of salt.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re half right, anyway. Got two younger brothers and two older ones.” 

Carrie’s eyebrows shot up. That was practically a litter. “Five brothers, huh? Wow. Your parents like getting busy I take it?”

His expression immediate twisted in disgust and she grimaced sympathetically. Must be a sore subject. “No way. We all have different moms; our old man’s one hell of a scumbag.” 

“Yikes, that’s… pretty horrible. I’m sorry.” She stumbled over her apology, her mind sorting through what she knew about demons. A demon with five different mothers to his children… that was extremely odd. She had never heard of anything like it; demons almost always selected one partner to carry out their lineage. Bloodlines were always of the utmost importance to them. How did he even find five female demons to agree to that arrangement? 

She watched him shrug, but could tell he was dwelling on it, so she tried to steer the conversation away from his father. “What do your brothers do? Are any of them on the force too?”

That made him crack a smile. “Hell no. I mean, James might be good at it, but it’s just not his thing. He’s the oldest and he owns the Golden Crown Cafe, it’s like a coffee shop up on the north side.”

“Wait, I’ve heard of that. Don’t they have really good pastries?”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, but don’t tell Matthew that. He’s the next younger one after me, and he does all the baking for the place. Trust me, he doesn’t need anyone boosting his ego. Damien’s the youngest and does the coffee stuff behind the counter when he’s not doing college whatever.”

The wording nearly made her laugh and she choked, trying to keep it from escaping her throat. She was pretty sure he meant ‘barista’ but she wasn’t about to correct him. “And the second oldest?” 

“That’s Erik. He’s working on doing some fashion designing thing, I don’t get it because it’s not really my style, but he’s got a couple minions working for him now so I guess it’s going okay.”

Carrie nodded to him as she sorted the names in her head, trying to remember them and in what order they were in. James, then Erik, then Sam, Matthew, and finally Damien. She wasn’t very good with names so she went over it a few times in her head, trying to keep them straight. Offhandedly she wondered what they looked like; like Sam? Then again if they all had different mothers, they could easily be totally different.

She peppered him with a few more questions about his brothers since that seemed to be an easy topic for him to talk about, and she was rewarded with his smile widening and him leaning forward as he talked, his hands making more and more wild gestures as he got into telling stories. Their food finally arrived and it slowed the conversation down but only a little; Sam was devouring food at a ridiculously fast rate but still found time to pause and explain exactly how Matthew had gotten them all kicked out of a pet shop. 

Even after the food was gone, they lingered for a while. Carrie was enjoying the conversation, but eventually even the excited nervousness of hanging around Sam wasn’t enough to keep her awake, and she knew she’d have to leave soon if she wanted to be able to drive home without falling asleep. She grabbed her purse and excused herself to head to the restroom, but once she circled around behind Sam she headed for the hostess station and slipped her card to the person behind the register to pay for their food. She watched Sam lean back in the booth and stretch his arms over his head; it was hard to tear her eyes away from the lines of muscles as they flexed and shifted. She almost missed the receipt being passed to her and she hurried to grab it, add on the tip and scribble a signature.

Once she passed it back over the counter, she moved back towards the table and stopped when she stood next to Sam, tilting her head to the side until she caught his attention. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind but is it okay if I take off? I had a lot of fun but I’m getting kind of tired and I want to make sure I’m okay to drive home.” 

He turned and leaned back, his eyes a little wide. “Y-Yeah, no problem.”

“If you want, we could do this again sometime?”

The smile that pulled at his lips was so reassuring, she nearly sagged in relief. “Yeah, sure.”

They hashed out a time to meet again (Tuesday at 10AM, since that was usually his day off and she could schedule her appointments around it) and she gave him a little wave before she headed for the door. Once she got to the parking lot she picked up her pace just a little, adrenaline spiking just a bit as she hurried to her car. When was he going to notice that she paid for him?

She was about a quarter mile away when her phone gave off a text notification tone, and her smile widened until she was cackling to herself. Nothing like staying up way past her usual bedtime and having late night breakfast with a demon to make her lose her marbles.

Luckily her drive wasn’t far, so she threw her car in park once she pulled into the garage, hit the button so the garage door would come down behind her and then rushed through her building to her apartment. Once she let herself in, she locked the door behind her and then leaned back against it, pulling out her phone and mis-swiping her entry code twice before she unlocked it properly.

Unknown: u didnt havt t do that

Hopefully that meant he was surprised but not angry? That had been her intention, after all.

Carrie: No worries! I wanted to :)  
Unknown: can i payy u bck  
Carrie: If it really bothers you, you can get next time?  
Unknown: deal

After his last response, she added him into her phone as “Sam Anderson” and headed straight to her nightstand to put her phone on the charger. Since her purse was technically an endless void, she tended for forget her phone in it and it died pretty often, so she always tried to make sure it was charged when she could. She kept glancing at her phone as she got into her pajamas and did her usual routine to get ready for bed, though it didn’t go off again. She was tempted to send him another text though she wasn’t even sure what to say. At least now, she had his number. Even after climbing into bed she didn’t fall asleep for some time, her eyes drifting open every so often just to watch the notification light on her phone.   



	3. Chapter 3

_He’s a demon, Reiko_. She didn’t need to be reminded, but the accusation still echoed in her mind. She knew he and his four brothers were in Shimane Prefecture specifically to take control of the temple, and she and the other girls had been summoned to keep them at bay at all costs. 

Not that she was much use to them, or anyone. She had somehow managed to keep her shameful secret from the rest of the girls: she was an imposter. Rei, the original shinto shrine maiden who had been summoned to help keep the shrine safe, had been too terrified to answer the call. In her stead she had sent Reiko, the orphaned gardener who had lived on the grounds of the shrine for most of her life as a charity case. Reiko’s original name had been something else, _Kerii_ or so she had heard, but the custodians of the shrine had named her Reiko. “Nothing child.” She belonged to shrine, had no attachments, no family. 

The shrine maiden Rei had asked Reiko to take her name and her place (”Rei is close enough to your name, you’ll barely notice!”), had trained her in the basics of what a shrine maiden was supposed to know, and then sent her off to Shimane to somehow protect a temple that was one of the most important holy sites in the world. The other girls who were summoned had strengths, powers, magic, knowledge that she could only dream of possessing. Reiko was completely normal, and completely overwhelmed.

Sometimes, it wasn’t bad. The temple gardens at the shrine in Shimane became her haven, just as the garden of the shrine had been her sanctuary as she grew up. Something about the excess holy energy of the temple made the plants in the garden grow spectacularly well, so much so that it scared her sometimes. She had some knowledge of herbal medicine though, and that coupled with the potency of the plants meant that just by sheer coincidence, she could occasionally be useful.

The girls that watched over the temple with her never seemed to judge her for not having the same level of abilities as them; in fact, they were completely open and welcoming to her. She managed to find her niche as a bit of a older sister figure to them, cooking and tending the garden and breaking up little spats. Mika, the granddaughter of the temple’s old master, had given Reiko a holy amulet, promising that it would keep her safe. They all grew closer, almost like a family, something Reiko hadn’t been familiar with until then. The girls using the name “Rei” for her was only slightly jarring and she became used to it, even Mika’s adorable permutation of “Reirei-neesan.”

Then, the demons came.

Thankfully between the temple wards and the other girls’ abilities, they didn’t get too close to the main temple itself, but they did enter the grounds and face the girls down. There were five of them, so human looking (other than their nearly supernatural good looks) that had the others not tipped her off, she would have greeted them like any other temple visitor. 

She had stayed off toward the side of the group, to her great shame; she had nothing to offer that could help turn them away. Her heart was pounding so loud she missed most of the exchange; they introduced themselves (she was surprised to hear them lay claim to human names), and then mentioned something about the temple’s old master, Soichiro, and the boys coming to “claim” the temple for the sake of peace between the worlds. The tallest one spoke the most, though she didn’t miss how the one dressed in green interjected something about “let’s just take it already.” Luckily the other demons overruled him, but the ferocity that rolled off of him made her tremble. _This_ is what they were supposed to defend the temple against? 

They reached a stalemate since the demons (who were apparently brothers) couldn’t get past the girls. The angry one, Sam, tried to rush them, heading almost directly at her (did she appear to be the weakest?) but he hit an invisible barrier that seemed to flash with light on impact and he was forced backward, and shortly after, the five retreated.

The girls congratulated her on her barrier spell, but she could only assume that the talisman Mika had given her was the true source of that power. After that particular encounter, she was loathe to take it off under almost any circumstances.

That’s why she was wearing it now as she did her shopping in the town’s small shopping street, especially since she was away from the protection of the temple and the other girls. She just needed to pick up some groceries for the hot pot she was making for dinner, and once her shopping was finished she headed back to the temple through the throng of people heading for the stores after work.

The screech of tires locking up caught her attention and she looked around just in time to see a delivery truck barreling down the road, straight toward a child who had somehow ended up in the street. She opened her mouth to call out to the little boy, slick dread instantly blanketing her as she knew the warning would come too late, but her shout was cut off when she saw a streak cross her vision, ending up in an alley off on her side of the road, and the child was suddenly gone. 

The truck barreled on and the few pedestrians who noticed glanced around as if they hadn’t noticed what had happened, but Reiko hurried to the alley to see what had moved so fast; it was nothing like she had ever seen before. 

In the narrow space between the two buildings she was surprised to find the demon named Sam kneeling next to the little boy, speaking quietly with him. The child nodded and ran off back towards the sidewalk, past Reiko and then into the throng of pedestrians. Her gaze followed him to make sure he didn’t dart into the street again, and when she was fairly certain he would be careful, she turned back to the demon, who was now standing and watching her warily.

 _He’s a demon, Reiko!_ she admonished herself. _You’ve got your amulet to protect you, but don’t rely on it!_

She was eyeing him cautiously and when her gaze lowered, she frowned when she noticed that his forearm was torn up a bit, blood oozing slowly around… was that gravel? A quick glance downward and she saw a similar injury on his ankle, right above his sneakers. If it was that fresh… did that mean he had injured himself saving that child? A human child? She didn’t think that a demon would be so… selfless.

Reiko shifted the grocery bag hanging from her arm to reach into the satchel she kept tucked into her obi and rooted around for a little container of her homemade healing poultice that she knew was inside. She carried it with her nearly everywhere; the injuries that the girls seemed to accumulate were never ending. 

Once she pulled it free she tossed it toward the demon, who caught it probably by instinct but instantly held it away from him in suspicion. “What is it?”

“It’s… a poultice, it’ll help your arm and ankle heal quickly,” she said, tripping over the first word that left her mouth. She was speaking with a _demon_ , one that she _knew_ was dangerous. One that was intent in taking her out in order to get to the temple she was supposed to be protecting. Even then, apparently he had some compassion for humans, which wasn’t lost on her. “I’d offer to look at them, but I don’t think you’d trust me that much.”

He snorted. “Like you could hurt me. You can give it a shot if you want, though I don’t know why you care.”

Reiko hesitated before stepping forward, inhaling deeply and feeling the holy amulet around her neck shift against her skin as her chest expanded. It would protect her if he tried anything… right? She reached back into her obi to pull out a handkerchief she could use to clean the raw skin, and after another moment of hesitation she let her shopping bag fall down her arm and settle onto the alley asphalt so that she could have full range of motion to work.

She plucked the little container from his hand and pressed her fingertips to his forearm to position it at an angle so that she could clean it. She didn’t expect his skin to feel warm to the touch. It felt, well, human. She didn’t know what she expected the sensation to be like beyond something foreign, but the fact that demons could masquerade as humans so easily, and do it so well, scared her more than she wanted to admit.

Clearing her thoughts, she focused on her task instead. “This will probably sting a little, I just need to get the debris out.” Once she began to concentrate on the wound and the steps she needed to take to clean it, she tuned out the rest of the worried noise in her head and got to work. It wasn’t unlike cleaning the true shrine maiden Rei’s scraped knees, which she had become quite familiar with over the years. His sharp inhale as she excavated some of the debris from his wounds registered in her mind but didn’t affect her concentration on her task. Once she applied the poultice, she tore a strip of cloth from her kerchief to wrap the injury and keep it from picking up any other dirt before it had healed.

After she had finished with his arm, she ran her hand down her the front of her kimono and tucked the cloth under her her knees as she settled down to look at his foot. Luckily it was little more than a glorified scratch, so it took little time for her to clean, apply the salve and cover the wound with the remains of her handkerchief. She’d have to get another one, but they were cheap enough.

It took several moments for her to rock back onto her geta sandals and push herself to her feet. After she finished brushing a bit of dust off of her kimono, she glanced up hesitantly at Sam and felt herself shrink away from his intense frown. The insecurity and worry that she had pushed away to work on his injuries came back in full force and her foot slipped backward, ready to flee. 

Sam’s frown bowed with confusion, and then his hand rose to rub the back of his neck and he looked away. Before she could take another step back, he strode forward with heavy steps and stormed past her and out of the alley. She stared after him, but he didn’t return, so she haltingly stooped to pick up her groceries and restarted her return journey to the temple.

After that incident, relations with the demon brothers were still strained, but seemed to ease a little. They stopped by less often, or when they did, they seemed to be almost… helpful. Mika loved them when she met them (after Matthew snuck past the wards into the temple late one night, to make cookies with her of all things?) but the girls still took their duties seriously and wouldn’t hand the temple over to anyone. Reiko tried her best to find some means of fending for herself, and the other girls aided her as much as they could, though in the end her defense was clumsy at best. Luckily since the boys’ focus seemed to be scattered and her amulet was still working, she didn’t need an immediate defense against them.

However, their help was needed in a dire way when the temple was besieged by devils. Malix and his Devil Boys gang had come into the prefecture and were looking to take over, and when they saw that the temple was a pocket of resistance (with magic defenses no less), they began to attack the girls in earnest. At first they just harassed the girls when they were out, and Reiko was again beyond thankful for her amulet which kept them from getting too close with intent to harm her, but the confrontations built on each other until they finally attacked the temple in a full-on assault. 

The girls had been fighting for their lives when there was a loud shout and several of the devils went flying. When the dust settled, the girls recognized the demon brothers attacking the devils head on. They couldn’t turn down the help and so the fight resumed in earnest, the boys helping to tear their enemies apart. 

Reiko was relegated to Mika’s last defense, standing by the entrance to the temple with her dagger clutched in a white-knuckled grip. As the attack dragged on, the fighting had gotten closer and closer to her but luckily the demon brothers were helping to push back against the devils. The fighting itself was… terrifying. Magic and weapons twined together to inflict as much damage as possible.

A devil managed to break away from the group and after shooting her a maniacal grin, he cast a spell to envelop her in crackling flames. Her barrier rose and shone against the attack, though she could feel the amulet itself heating up against her skin. Just as Tien-chan managed to disrupt the spell and the flames died around her, she heard a faint tinkling and felt the amulet crumble to dust around her neck.

Cold shivers instantly wracked her body. _This couldn’t be happening_ , it was the only thing she had, the only thing that had kept her alive until this point. She was vulnerable, naked, a target now. If she went inside, took Mika with her, perhaps she could find another holy relic, if–

A thin, sickly laugh snapped her out of her panic almost too late. Reiko fell backwards, a devil pouncing on top of her and sending her to the ground. She tightened her grip on her dagger and brought it upwards, aiming for the devil’s jugular, but he caught her hand easily and directed the blade backward toward her throat.

A man’s voice called out a name – “REI!!” – but it wasn’t _her_ name. The hot devil breath on her face, the maniacal eyes boring into her, the sharp blade at her throat, it all slipped away as she closed her eyes and a tear squeezed its way past her eyelids. _That wasn’t even her name_. Drowning in pain, she was dying an impostor, useless as always.


	4. Chapter 4

Carrie tried turning the keys in the ignition in an attempt to start her car again, but after a brief grinding noise, still nothing. The engine just wouldn’t turn over. She groaned and wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel, giving it a good shake before letting go and flopping back in the driver’s seat.  


She was going to be late. Hell, if her car wouldn’t start, she wouldn’t be able to make it at all. Sighing, she pulled out her phone, but as she unlocked it, an idea sprung to mind. She and Sam had been meeting at Denny’s for maybe five or six weeks now, but she still hadn’t revealed that she knew he was a demon, and she was becoming more and more certain that he had no idea that she was a witch. Maybe… now was the time to change that. Pulling up the messaging app, she started crafting her text.

Carrie: Hey, I’m sorry but my car is refusing to start. If you want, you could come over and I could make you breakfast?

Sam: sure if thats coool with u

Her smile widened, though she had given up trying to convince herself it was because of his horrible typing skills. He was getting a little better; maybe her texting him was helping him get some practice.

She texted him her address and the number to her ground floor apartment, then hopped out of the driver’s seat before locking up and heading back into her apartment. She started an immediate rummage for ingredients in the kitchen as she tied her favorite half apron just below her waist, though she knew she’d probably have enough to cover the basics. Bacon came out of the freezer and went straight to a baking pan and into the oven, dry goods went onto the counter so that she could assemble pancake batter, butter sat beside them on the counter to soften, and the egg carton followed as well. Bacon, eggs, pancakes; she figured her bases were generally covered as long as she made enough for Sam’s appetite. She briefly entertained the thought that if this became a new habit she should stock up on ingredients for French toast and other more impressive breakfast foods, but she shoved that thought aside forcefully so that she could concentrate on getting breakfast made instead of mooning over future plans.

The batter was ready to be mixed together when she heard a knock at her apartment door, and the whisk in her hand clattered to the counter noisily by accident. She nearly jumped out of her skin and tried to shush the errant tool by pushing it away from herself before she threw her hands up and headed for the door anyway. Her hands felt suddenly clammy and she wiped them on the cloth of her apron before she reached for the door, unlocked it and pulled it open. 

Yep, that was Sam. His shoulders looked a little hunched; she hoped it was because he was feeling a little shy, not embarrassed by where she lived. Her apartment was in a pretty rundown neighborhood but that was mostly because she needed to live by herself to keep her magic a secret, and living without roommates was super expensive in all but the worst neighborhoods in this part of the city. 

“Hey,” he said softly, and she gave him a smile and swept her hand out wordlessly to invite him in. 

Once he stepped past the threshold, she shut the door and locked it behind him before saying, “Kitchen’s this way, come on,” and leading him through her little apartment. Once she reached the side room that held her kitchen and dining room, she forcefully pointed at a chair at the table and told him, “Sit,” before she turned to head into the kitchen to continue cooking.

She heard him settle into one of the chairs so she returned her focus into concentrating on cooking. Checking on the bacon, she noticed that it was almost there; luckily Sam liked his a little on the chewy side. Turning back to the counter, she tipped the bowl of wet ingredients for the pancake batter into the bowl of dry goods and began to whisk it together. “Thanks for coming out, sorry about my car. It’s old and drives me a little crazy sometimes when something just fails out of nowhere. I hope you don’t mind pancakes?”

“No, I mean, thanks for cooking,” was Sam’s mumbled reply. 

Carrie didn’t process his response for several seconds since she was busy ladling the mixed pancake batter on to the greased griddle on her stove and mixing eggs to scramble. Eventually his uncharacteristically soft murmur registered in her mind and she looked over her shoulder at him. One of his hands was buried in his hair and held his head up from the table, and the other was in front of his face, fingers clenching and then releasing. 

She whispered a quiet incantation over her spatula to keep it moving by itself so the eggs wouldn’t stick to the pan, eyed the pancakes to make sure they wouldn’t scorch if she moved away for a minute, then slipped around the counter to stand next to Sam. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I… I wanted to tell you something, but… ugh. I don’t even know how to start.” The hand on his head pulled back, ruffling his hair in its wake, and he leaned his elbows on the table and hunched forward. Carrie reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder, thumb rubbing sympathetically, but she suddenly stopped. Trying to tell her “something”?

“Sam,” she began slowly, “are you trying to tell me that you’re a demon?”

He turned to her suddenly, eyebrows shooting up in complete surprise. “Wait, what?! You… know?”

Carrie’s breath left her suddenly and she pulled her hand away and gave him a slight bop on the arm. “Is that all?? God, I was actually worried! Does this mean we can finally talk about it? Because I’ve been dying to find out what kind of demon you are!” When he continued to stare at her wordlessly, she tried again. “So, can I ask what kind of demon you are? Let me guess… incubus, right?” she threw out jokingly.

His mouth opened and closed a few times before he found his voice, just a single word passing his lips. “Y-Yeah.”

She stared back at him, brow furrowing in an incredulous frown. “Wait, you’re serious? You’re actually an incubus?”

He nodded and she gave a little laugh. “Seriously? I was joking! I just thought, ‘hey, hot guy in a police uniform is apparently a demon, he’s either an incubus or a stripper,’ I didn’t think you’d actually be one!”

Sam shook his head, lips quirking into a bit of an incredulous smile, before he frowned again. “How did you…”

Carrie chewed on the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too widely. “Sam… who do you think is still cooking the eggs right now?”

He blinked in surprise at her before glancing back at the stove, realization dawning when he saw the spatula slowly twirling around the pan all by itself. “You’re a witch? Hell, I had no idea. …Wait, you said you’ve known since I was in my uniform? So you’ve basically known since I met you??”

She nodded, sure that her grin was grating but she didn’t care. The absolutely dumbfounded expression on his face was completely worth it. “Mmhmm! I was shocked that you didn’t notice the true seeing spell I drew in the fireplace. The second you grabbed my arm and pulled me back, I saw a glimpse of your demon form.”

“You’ve known this whole time…” His voice was still soft, incredulous, though there was a rough undertone of… something else? She couldn’t tell. She stepped back and turned toward the kitchen, hurrying back to check on breakfast, flipping the pancakes just in time and then taking over stirring the eggs again.

“Yeah. It doesn’t matter to me that you’re a demon, Sam. Honestly, it’s kind of nice? I never have the chance to bring anyone to my apartment without scrubbing the place top to bottom and hiding a lot of my things, because I’m afraid of slipping up and letting on when they’re not allowed to know about magic. With you though, I don’t have to worry about any of that.” 

He still hadn’t said anything, and she was afraid to turn around and look at him, so her mouth took off to try and fill the silence. “I mean, I hope that’s okay that I didn’t say anything right away? I just didn’t know what you wanted, at first I thought for sure I was dead if you were there to attack me, though I’m really glad that wasn’t the case! And then it looked like you were trying to do your best to fit in, so I didn’t want to blow your cover?”

She paused in stirring the eggs for a moment, the spatula resting at the bottom of the pan, before she hurriedly pulled it off of the burner and got to work taking the finished pancakes from the griddle and pouring on more batter. “I hope it was okay that I helped with your police report? I know that most demons don’t have a chance to learn how to read, and I figured I could help a bit since it looked like you were still learning. I wasn’t trying to butt in or make you feel bad! I’m kind of surprised actually, police work involves a lot of writing reports, I’m sure that’s a huge hassle when you’re not used to reading or writing. Then again, I guess that means you’ll be getting a lot of practice in at least?”

“Y… Yeah.” 

She wasn’t sure what to make of his tongue still being tied. Did she surprise him that much? Was he upset with her? She tried to think of something else, anything, to get him to talking or to give her something else to go on. “So, police officer, huh? Any particular reason? Or were you just going for the ‘hot guy in a police uniform’ cliche? I mean, you’re an incubus, it’s probably in your blood.”

She finally heard a soft snort from the table and nearly choked on a sigh of relief. “Not the uniform, trust me, it itches like hell until you wash the damn thing enough. Not sure, just… felt like it was the right thing to go into.”

Carrie pulled the bacon out of the oven with a clatter as the pan hit the trivet on the countertop, and then she began assembling a plate for him. “Don’t worry about putting it into words, I understand, sometimes it’s just going with your gut.” She pulled silverware out of a drawer for him and slid it closed with her hip before she bustled out to the dining room and put the plate in front of him. “Here you go! Gimme just a sec to grab some syrup and butter. Orange juice okay?”

He hummed his assent, bacon already in his mouth. Either he was hungry, or trying to avoid talking. She was fine with either at this point. Another trip to the kitchen netted her the condiments and beverage for him, and then she went back and quickly finished a couple more pancakes on the griddle for herself before plating up her own breakfast and sitting down at her dining room table.

Their meal was especially quiet that morning, mostly because Sam was plowing through his food faster than she had seen before. In fact, she noticed he was shoveling and chewing probably faster than a human could pull off, and it made her smile. Did he feel comfortable letting her see that now?

He finished before her, and when she asked if he wanted seconds, he nodded eagerly. She rose to refill his plate with more eggs and bacon, and she had barely slipped it back in front of him before he had stuck his fork into it again. 

When she finished she leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms out in front of her, just in time for Sam to finish his second plate. He dropped his fork with a loud clatter and then looked up at her, hands held up in confusion. “If you can cook like this, why the hell did we ever go to Denny’s?!”

Carrie brought up her hands to cover the bottom half of her face to hide her smile, her lips tightening with pride. Once she fought off the giddy vibrations, she clapped her hands together and then pressed them into her lap. “Thank you! I love cooking for people, seriously. Anytime you want, just let me know, I wouldn’t mind making breakfast instead of going out to Denny’s anymore.”

He shot her a half smile, eyes sparkling. “Hell, I’ll pay you. That was fucking awesome.”

“Can’t beat eggs directly from the farm and bacon from the butcher out on Tile Flats Road. It’s a hell of a drive so I only get out there on occasion, but the meat’s amazing.”

He nodded wordlessly, licking his lips seemingly unconsciously to hold onto the taste of her cooking. Carrie was just trying not to stare, suppressing a shiver and looking over to the kitchen. She stood to start putting things away and doing dishes (if only she had a dishwasher, the only thing her little kitchen was missing) but Sam followed her, insisting on helping with the cleanup if nothing else. 

She was so used to not being able to have anyone in her apartment that the extra contact felt unsettling, though not in a bad way. Moving around another person in her kitchen wasn’t something she was used to, and she felt his presence take up more room than he actually did. Still, having him there in her space was making her heart pump faster in excitement; finally, someone she could spend time with while actually just being herself, magic and all.


	5. Chapter 5

Aomaris liked weapons. He and his dragon brothers all had attractions to different types of objects, shiny or otherwise, that caught their eye; for instance, Raestrao collected books, and Uzaeris collected fine fabrics and brocades. He himself prefered sharp things, blunt things, things designed to inflict damage. It wasn’t that he was violent, but he liked the design and thought put into them, and loved learning how they were used and the forms and movements needed to utilize them to their fullest. Something about weapons just entranced him, in a way he couldn’t explain, so he collected them. Had a hoard filled with them.  


When he heard that the merchant nation of Galeia had outfitted their new armada with weapons that could attack from afar with exponentially more force than a bow and arrow, Aomaris was quick to leave his hidden hoard behind and shift into a human persona to join the naval forces and see the weapons for himself. By pure chance (or perhaps because of his fighting prowess), he was assigned to the flagship, the one carrying most of the cargo and the most troops, as well as the majority of their new weapons.

Cannons.

The explosive black powder that they had adapted for use in the large cast iron cannons was intriguing to him, especially the violence at which the heavy cannonballs were hurled into the distance by the explosions. He noted that the weapon could be dangerous if it were fired at him or his brothers, but for the most part, he just wanted to have one for his hoard. By the time he was able to get close to the cannons however, the merchant armada was already set to sail, and he didn’t want to leave them with a gap in their ship defenses. He decided that he’d take one for himself when they returned from the voyage in a few weeks and were safely docked at home again.

He had heard that the princess of the merchant nation was aboard the flagship with him, but since his postings were in the crew quarters and on deck, he rarely had a chance to even catch a glimpse of her. The first time they met caught him completely by surprise; he had been up in the crow’s nest on lookout, bundled up in a thick blanket to help shed water during a deluge of a storm when the rain suddenly dissipated around him and the thundering roar in his ears abated. He could not longer feel the droplets patter against the blanket, and when he lifted his head, his face remained dry, though he could see the rain all around him as it continued to pelt down against the deck of the ship. 

The sounds of ropes creaking alerted him to someone climbing the rigging, and he turned just in time to see a woman pull herself onto the platform behind him. “I’m sorry, they only just told me that someone was up here. I hope you’re not too soaked?”

Once she had stood and gripped the mast to keep herself steady, she blinked at him in confusion. “Oh. Ah, I don’t think we’ve met? I’m Kary, are you new to the crew?”

Aomaris gave her the name Sam; it was what he normally went by when he tried to blend in with humans. She settled down with him in the crow’s nest and spoke with him, though she was hesitant to confirm that she was Galeia’s merchant princess until he asked her outright. He wasn’t particularly interested in human conversation for the most part (Uzaeris was the one who was a fan of conversational nuance) so most of his questions were blunt, but she didn’t seem to mind. She explained that her innate magic allowed her to control the weather, and though she was keeping the rain off of them for the moment, she tried to use it as rarely as possible. For instance, the rain that was over them now would soon be heading to the nation of Guatelay, and they needed every drop for their crops as they relied on agriculture. Kary explained that she tried to keep her powers somewhat of a secret, but wanted to explain them to him because he was bound to see her using them on the ship and didn’t want outlandish rumors to spread.

He asked her about the cannons and she explained what she knew about them, particularly that the exact recipe for the black powder was a closely guarded secret. When he questioned their effectiveness, and whether they were actually useful in a ship to ship battle, she smiled and told him that she hoped he wouldn’t have to find out.

When she finally excused herself and climbed down from the crow’s nest, he was surprised at how much time had passed. It had been the first time be had spoken with a human for such a long duration. For some reason, he didn’t find her as frustrating as many of the others of her kind.

As for the cannons, he found out in person just how devastating (and loud) they could be. On their return voyage they were tracked and attacked by a fleet of pirates looking to relieve them of their cargo, and Aomaris watched as several of the attacking ships were shot full of holes and some even began to sink. Some other enemy ships managed to come up from behind out of the range of cannon fire and board the deck, and the naval crew began to fight hand to hand in earnest. There was a shout calling the Galeians to the top deck, and when Aomaris fought his way up, mowing down enemies with his greatsword, he found several men including the captain and Kary all fighting off the invaders. Though they were in the thick of the fighting, his eyes kept being drawn to her and the surprisingly effective way she was taking down her foes. 

She fought with a short sword and a dagger in her off hand, spinning around as she blocked, parried and used her opponents’ momentum against them. Several of the pirates went flying over the railing, and others were cut down with no remorse. There was something beautiful about her expression, almost regretful but still determined and concentrating on taking out any opposition with exact precision. When the battle was over and she called out instructions to inspect the ship and tend the wounded, he was frozen in place. Watching her small form as the wind carried wisps of her hair across her face, the urge to reach out and tuck them behind her ear was overwhelming. A covetous feeling began to grow in his chest; she was the most beautiful weapon he had ever seen, and he wanted her for himself.

When the convoy returned to its home port in Galeia, Aomaris asked Kary to meet him at the ship that night to talk. They had spoken more and more as the voyage went on, so it wasn’t out of place for him to ask, and she agreed to meet him. However, he neglected to mention that he’d be arriving in dragon form to take away one of the cannons for his hoard… and her, as well. To her credit, she didn’t scream when he captured in his claws, and she seemed to behave perfectly well as he flew to the cave in the mountain range just beyond the borders of her country.

He swooped into the entrance in the cliffside and gently released her before flying further inside to place the cannon from his other claw where he wanted it among his other treasures. When it was acceptably stored, he craned his neck toward the entrance and eyed Kary as she stood against the wall of the cave. He could see her trembling, hand propped against the stone wall to help keep her upright, and he transformed back into his human form to alleviate her fear.

That didn’t work entirely as planned; she became angry instead of calm once she realized that she knew her kidnapper. Getting her to stop yelling at him was probably one of the hardest things he’d had to do in recent memory.

Eventually he got her to listen to reason, or at least not shout at him anymore. She tried to explain that kidnapping her, even without adverse intentions, would cause strife in Galeia and would eventually bring the army down on him. Not that he cared much about the country itself, but he didn’t want to start some kind of war over his actions either. Damn humans and their complicated ways of doing things.

In the early hours of the morning just before dawn, he flew back to Galeia’s harbor with Kary yet again tucked safely in his claws. Beyond a few people in the castle, not many had realized she had been missing, and she explained to anyone who questioned her that she had snuck away to see the countryside at night. She and Sam returned to their roles as before, though he seemed to find more and more ways to spend time with her. Eventually he came to act as her personal bodyguard and accompanied her nearly everywhere, both inside her country as well as on trading voyages.

There was one occasion where he needed to leave her side as her convoy was leaving; one of his brothers had called on the others and he needed to see what they wanted. He gave her his true dragon name, and told her to call for him if she ever needed him; magic would carry his name to his ear and no matter where he was, he’d hear. She agreed with a smile and sent him on his way.

His brothers, unfortunately for him, had only gathered to be completely nosey. Raestrao was worried about Aomaris meddling in the affairs of humans and their trade, but the others mostly just wanted to tease him; the rumor that the princess of Galeia was periodically kidnapped by a dragon had gotten around, much to his chagrin. 

However, he was returning to his hoard to check up on it when he heard his true name carried on the wind. He roared as he circled toward the coast and shot out toward the sea, blood pumping in anticipation of battle. He followed the magical pull toward a stormy horizon and soon a ship came into his field of view, its hull gripped by enormous tentacles. He folded his wings and dove, dodging bolts of lightning from the stormy sky as he soared toward his target: the body of the gigantic squid that was attacking the ship. He landed on its body teeth and claws first, ripping and tearing at its thick slimy skin to get it away, to keep Kary safe. 

The fight was intense but short; the squid unwrapped its remaining tentacles and took off toward the sea floor, leaving the crippled vessel in its wake. Aomaris stumbled onto the deck as he transformed into his smaller human form and took in the damage. The ship was crushed nearly in half and listing heavily to the side, much of the timber hull splintered and cracked in a myriad of directions. The crew was scattered, cries for help echoing from different parts of the ship, but Aomaris ignored them all in search of his treasure.

She was at the bow of the ship, the angled prow mangled at an odd angle from being gripped and squeezed by one of the sea monster’s tentacles. Kary was on her side on the remains of the flooring that hadn’t collapsed, arm trembling and head bobbing as she fought to breathe against the wooden board that erupted from her chest. His arms wrapped around her, pulled her gently toward him, and he asked her what to do. He knew weapons, he knew fighting, but _this_ … he had no idea how to fix this. 

Her gaze relaxed, tears welling up as blood gathered in the corners of her mouth, and she whispered haltingly through her shallow attempts at breathing. “P-Please… just, make it stop…”

Ending a life. He knew how to do it, he even knew how to make it painless (or at least add no pain to what she was already experiencing), but at this moment, he didn’t want to know. He wanted to keep her with him, but the only knowledge he possessed was for ending lives, not prolonging them.

Her labored, choked breaths and violent tremors made his chest ache in sympathetic pain, and he pulled the dagger from her belt and placed the tip at the side of her neck, ready to thrust it it and pull forward to cut the tendons and arteries. The sight of the blade against her delicate skin made his eyes burn and he glanced to her face, his other hand rising to her cheek. His thumb traced the line of her lip, her blood coating the tip of his finger.

She had no more breath in her to speak, but her lips formed the words “thank you” before his arm tensed, the blade moved and it was finished. As he held her form, he felt the press of memories invade his mind: memories of other times, other places, but always the two of them together, forever cursed to suffer a doomed farewell. The pressure inside of his head was too much; he transformed into his dragon form and gently lifted her into his talons, leaving behind the wreckage and everything else that didn’t mean anything to him anymore. He returned to the cave that held his hoard, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at the worthless junk stashed within.

Cradling the body that rested in his claws, he inhaled deeply and let out a despairing, grief stricken roar that rattled the mountains below.

His treasure was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

“Hold on… Mika Anderson’s grandfather? Are you talking about Harold Anderson??”

They were sitting at Carrie’s dining room table over another breakfast; the last of the French toast had disappeared a half hour ago and now Sam was telling her about how he and his brothers came to be in the human world, and particularly the events that happened when they returned to Chicago from their travels.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, matching her shocked expression. “Yeah. Did you know him?” 

Carrie pressed her hands into the tabletop, shaking her head as she lowered her gaze. “Not personally, but I definitely knew of him. He was a legend, one of the most powerful warlocks in the world. When I heard that he died…” She shook her head before glancing back up at him. “You know, when I was younger, I emailed him once. I had a question about a spell and I wasn’t sure where to get the answer, so I thought I was being all sly by sending him an email about ‘toys’ that was actually referencing spell components.” She chuckled, the sound soft and self deprecating. “I can’t believe he even answered me, but he did. He sent me a roundabout solution to what I needed, and he even directed me to a sweetheart that runs a shop a few miles from here and we’ve been friends ever since. …I even printed out a copy of his response in case my email eats it one day, it means that much to me.” When she tilted her head towards Sam again, her brow furrowed. “Do you know what happened to him?”

Sam shrugged. “Still don’t know. We just met Mika like a day after the funeral, but she had no clue either.” He went on to explain how Malix had returned to torment them at the mansion, how Mika had used her fledgling magic to hold out long enough against the devil, and how they had been about to leave when Diana had shown up to try and take them back to the Abyssal Plains. 

She was internally cheering for Sam and his brothers as he described them ganging up against Diana to keep her from threatening Mika or forcing them to return. In the end, Mika had made a deal with Diana to let the succubus take her magic away in return for leaving the boys alone. But when he described how the boys had left amicably that night, she frowned and wanted to make sure he was just glossing over the details. “Wait, so you all left her at her mansion… but you locked her memories of you away, right?”

Sam gave her an incredulous look, half smiling. “Why? We figured we’d see her around again. What would be the point?”

Carrie’s eyes went wide and she stared at him, biting the inside of her cheek so that her mouth didn’t get away from her. At last she inhaled deeply and spoke, the words coming out slowly. “You do realize that humans aren’t allowed to know about demons and the other worlds, correct? With her magic gone, she’s no different than any other human on the street. Please tell me at least James blocked the memories of you all from her mind?”

She could tell from his expression as he shook his head that he still wasn’t buying the urgency of what she was saying, and her heart began to beat faster, pulse softly sounding off in her ears. “Sam, if she still has those memories and an angel finds her, she’ll be baptized, if she’s lucky. Do you realize that?”

“What? Why would the angels care?”

“Because those are the rules!” she nearly shouted. “Are you kidding me? You and your brothers are just wandering around the human world without knowing the rules of the worlds??” 

He threw his hands up, shaking his head at her. “What rules? What the hell are you talking about?”

Carrie jumped up and headed for her desk to grab her purse. “Come on. You’re going to show me where Mika’s mansion is and we’re going to check on her, because I want to make sure she’s still alive.”

That caught his attention. The chair slid backwards noisily as he stood and followed her out the door.

The ride to the suburb that Mika lived in was an intense twenty minutes of Carrie trying not to lecture Sam and failing. She especially emphasized the most important rule: that humans who have not been given permission to know about magic and the five worlds must remain ignorant at all costs. Carrie herself had gone through the Angel Trials to gain that permission, and even as a child, she understood the dire consequences if she failed. She emphasized that the angels were strict enforcers, and that if any human was caught with forbidden knowledge, their memories weren’t just forfeit; their entire being and sense of self was erased, leaving nothing of themselves but their name in the wake of the angels’ authority.

Sam’s expression grew more and more shocked as she continued her explanation, his knuckles clutched tightly to the armrest. “We… didn’t know,” he murmured, words soft and tone full of guilt. “Shit, if she got punished because of us…” 

The remainder of the drive was quietly tense, until finally she pulled up to an affluent neighborhood and Sam pointed out the mansion that Mika lived at. Carrie pulled up and parked along the street before jumping up from the driver’s side, and Sam did the same and followed her as she rounded the car and headed for the mansion.

“Feels weird being back here,” he murmured quietly while they strode up the front walk, and Carrie forced herself to not be timid and ring the doorbell. She stepped backward and averted her eyes from the door, her skin prickling from the magic emanating from the residence. This… was Harold Anderson’s home. Power seemed to hum from the walls and the grounds, and she resisted inspecting the wards that she was sure were placed around the perimeter. Luckily, she heard footsteps approaching the door and that snapped her out of geeking out.

A girl with long dark hair answered the door, peeking around the edge of the wooden panel at them questioningly. 

Carrie watched Sam perk up next to her and she fought back a sigh of relief; this must be Mika, thank goodness. She spoke quickly, hoping to cut him off before he said something that gave them away. “Hello, sorry to bug you! This is going to sound so dumb but we’re running super low on gas and both of our phones are dead. Would you mind pointing out where the nearest gas station is?” 

Mika nodded and opened the door a little wider so that she could point down the road. “Sure! If you head down this road and then take the second left, that’ll lead to an intersection and there’s a Chevron right at the corner.”

Carrie sighed in relief to keep up the act as if that information was useful, but she didn’t miss how Mika’s eyes trailed over to Sam. She was frowning in confusion, as if she recognized him but couldn’t place where she knew him from. Excellent, just what she needed to know. Time to go. “That’s perfect, thank you so, so much! Have a wonderful day!”

“You too!” was Mika’s reply, and Carrie grabbed Sam’s hand and forcefully pulled him away from the front door and down the front walk to the car. Once they had gotten inside and she started the car, she drove down the street far enough away to be out of sight and then she threw the car in park again. 

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened and she leaned forward, sighing heavily in relief. “You have no idea, _no idea_ , how lucky you are.”

Sam was frowning, staring out the window. His response came slowly, his mind obviously still back at the Anderson mansion. “She didn’t remember me?”

Carrie shook her head. “Obviously someone else wiped her memory. I don’t know who, but I’m grateful. If an angel had gotten ahold of her, there would be nothing left except an empty shell with a name. And that’s only if they were in a good mood.”

Silence settled heavily over the car as they were both lost in their thoughts. Carrie was wondering who could have wiped the girl’s memory; perhaps the succubus had stuck around to clean up after the boys? She didn’t expect it from how ruthless Sam made her sound, but Diana had been his enemy so it made sense for his story to paint her in a negative light. Carrie doubted that she’d ever find out what had actually happened. 

She glanced over at Sam, who was still turned to look out the window. Haltingly she reached out and placed her hand over his that was resting on his thigh. “Hey…”

“It’s our fault. We brought this to her.” The soft tone of defeat that came from his mouth wasn’t one she had heard from him before. “Everything that happened, Malix, Diana… She lost her magic because of us, and now her memories too…” He almost deflated in his seat as he sighed heavily. “We never should have come.”

“Of course you should have,” Carrie said forcefully, tightening her fingers around his hand. “Don’t even say that. It worked out okay, all right? Mika’s fine. I know I don’t know all the details but she’s alive and safe, in her grandfather’s mansion where she belongs. You’re not at fault for wanting a better life for yourself and your brothers. None of you deserve to be unhappy.”

She waited patiently for a reply but she never got one beyond the slow, almost imperceptible curl of his hand underneath hers. She was grateful for her long fingers; his hand was larger than hers, so they were the only reason her hand wasn’t comically dwarfed by his.

Several moments went by in silence again, her hand warming just from being in contact with his; the guy had plenty of body heat, she’d give him that. Finally her fingers gave his a final, long squeeze before she pulled away, buckled her seatbelt and started the car. He put on his own seatbelt as she pulled away from the curb but he then shifted in his seat, his eyes avoiding her. 

The silence persisted in the car for the entirety of the ride home. Carrie didn’t mind; she didn’t need the air filled with words, she just wanted Sam to feel better. As the miles passed by however, her mind wandered back to the lecture she had given him on the way over. Demons running around the human world with no knowledge of the rules of the worlds was a dangerous prospect. Not only were humans that they came into contact in danger, but the demon brothers themselves were as well. Demons weren’t given a pure baptism if they crossed the angels, they were destroyed. The thought of Sam taking on an angel crossed her mind briefly before she shoved it aside and shifted her concentration back to the road. 

When her car finally rolled back into her garage, she shut it off and leaned back in the seat. “Hey,” she murmured, her voice growing stronger as she continued to speak, “I think I… should probably talk to your brothers, if that’s something you’re okay with. I don’t want any of you to be a target for angels. Would it be okay with you if I explained the rules of the worlds to them?”

“Yeah.” She was surprised at his immediate response, given how quiet he had been. He turned to watch her carefully, but she couldn’t make out the emotions swimming in those emerald eyes that were so focused on her. “…Thanks, Carrie. Still can’t believe we put Mika in danger like that, but I’m glad she’s okay.”

“Me too.” She wasn’t sure if it was that piercing green gaze focused on her that was making her heart swell in her chest; was he enthralling her, or was had her crush just gotten that far out of hand? She had no idea, she had never been enthralled before, but something drew her forward and she tilted her chin up to press a kiss to his cheek. As soon as she felt his skin beneath her lips though, a spark shot through her and she bolted backwards, faster than she meant to. She gave him a tight smile, because she was sure that if she didn’t forcibly control her reaction, she’d do something stupid like laugh in his face. 

“I’m gonna go clean up the dishes, I’d invite you in but you’ve got work soon I think? Sorry that our little road trip took so long!” Carrie knew she was rambling a bit but she couldn’t help it so she averted her eyes, reaching back to grab her purse before jumping out of the car. 

She saw him exit the passenger side as well but didn’t look up far enough to see what his expression looked like. “Yeah…. Yeah, I’ll catch you later. And I’ll ask my brothers, too.”

She wiggled her fingers at him and headed for the door that led to the interior hallway of the apartment building, waiting until she was sure he was out of the garage before closing the door. She caught a little glimpse of him as he walked away toward his own pickup truck, hands in his pockets, and she shook her head before turning around and heading back toward her apartment. She had dishes and probably a decent amount of freaking out to do.

Carrie and Sam texted throughout the rest of the week, and he let her know that his brothers agreed to meet up with her at the Golden Crown Cafe that Saturday. Carrie wasn’t a fan of the venue since it was so public, even if James was the owner, but she’d find a way to make it work. 

When she arrived at the cafe on Saturday, a young man with a mass of fluffy black hair greeted her at the door. “Hi! I’m Matthew,” was his cheerful introduction as he opened the door for her and directed her inside. When she crossed the threshold, she was surprised at first to see that there were no other customers in the store beyond a group of three men seated in armchairs in the comfortable seating area off to the left. When she entered, they rose and Matthew let the door close behind her.

Of course it was empty, she realized: James was the owner. If he wanted to close his cafe so that he and his brothers had a safe space to talk, he was well within his rights. 

“Hello, miss. My name is James, and these are my brothers Damien and Erik,” said the tallest, his amber eyes warm but seeming to measure her as they swept over her briefly. She shook James’s hand, even if it was an overly formal gesture; she knew from Sam’s stories that he was the one who usually took charge of his brothers. She waved at Damien, who returned the wiggled fingers with a smile, and Erik reached forward for what she thought would be a handshake, but he ended up taking her hand instead, bringing her knuckles up and touching them to his lips with feather light contact. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carrie.”

Something warm grabbed onto her wrist and wrenched it back to her side, though thankfully despite the violent action she didn’t feel any pain. Her gaze shot to the person grabbing her wrist and Sam was there, glowering at Erik. 

“Ooh, Sam, getting a little jealous?” Matthew teased with a smarmy lilt as he approached the group, the cafe’s front door firmly shut behind him. 

Sam’s cheeks immediately erupted in a red blush and he released her wrist as if it were poisonous. “What?? No! Matthew, shut your fucking–” 

As Sam turned to his younger brother and continued to threaten him, Carrie surreptitiously glanced at the brothers and marveled at how different they were, and how human they seemed. Erik was exactly what she was expecting of an incubus, flirtatiousness and all. The rest of them, however… Beyond their admittedly extraordinary good looks, she wouldn’t have believed they were incubi if Sam hadn’t let on.

“Sam told you that we’re incubi?” Damien said softly, and that caught James’s attention as well. The oldest brother’s amber eyes focused on her again before flicking to Sam, and Carrie rushed to speak, not wanting him to place the blame on him.

“No, no, I knew he was a demon before he said anything. I had cast a true seeing spell, so when he came up to me I had a glimpse and…” she trailed off when she saw Damien smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It seemed like a perfectly sweet smile with no ill intentions, but she didn’t understand.

“Ah, a witch,” Erik said, his eyebrow raised. Sam and Matthew stopped bickering long enough to turn toward the rest of the group, and Carrie nodded.

“Sam actually didn’t mention anything about being a demon at all. I kind of surprised him with it, so if anyone’s to blame, it’s me?” She swallowed as she finished speaking, waiting for one of them to give her some kind of hint as to how this conversation was going to go. She was sincerely hoping that they were just curious and not about to turn on her; she doubted that that would be the case, but there was something to be said about being surrounded by five powerful demons that made her mind wander to worst case scenarios.

James indulged her with a small smile, and she swallowed down her sigh of relief. “There’s no blame, miss. We’re not trying to punish you, merely find out how you discovered our secret.”

“Pure accident, I swear.” She went on to explain what had happened in the house she had been tasked with investigating when they had met.

“You didn’t notice a true seeing spell?” Erik asked Sam with an obvious air of disdain.

Sam’s lips twisted into a sneering frown. “Look, how was I supposed to know? Do you go around inspecting fireplaces?! I was there for a haunted house call, and there was a ghost!”

“Humans can’t really see ghosts, Sam,” Matthew said with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, some can, but they’re really in the minority. That probably should have tipped you off.”

“Ghosts aren’t the point here,” James cut in, and his brothers ended their bickering immediately besides a few soft, snarky asides spoken under their breath. “The point is, miss, I’m grateful that you’ve kept word of our true selves a secret, and I’m going to have to ask you to continue doing so.” 

“That’s actually why I’m here,” Carrie said, and James’s expression remained measuredly still as she continued. “There are several rules that you need to follow when you’re in the human world, the rules of the worlds. I’m kind of surprised you don’t know them but regardless, I’m here to explain them because if you don’t follow them, you’re all going to be targets for angels.”

“Not just us,” Sam continued, his expression grim. “People around us, too. We could have gotten Mika killed because we didn’t know better.”

The room’s silence seemed to increase in volume, and all of the incubi’s eyes were on her. “She’s fine, Sam and I checked on her. Her memory was wiped by someone, I don’t know who but she’s doing okay. I’m not trying to preach at you, I just want to make sure you’re all being safe. Crossing the angels is a good way to end up dead or worse.”

She could feel the focus of their attention on her. Her heart was beating rapidly, nervous at the having such powerful demons focusing solely on her, but she kept her breathing quiet and steady as she laid down the rules that they needed to follow to keep out of trouble, because the more she came to know these incubi, the more she wanted to keep them safe.   



	7. Chapter 7

Sam revved the engine of his motorcycle pushing it faster, _faster_. No helmet, no gear, there was no _time_. Word had gotten to Diva that Elliott had pulled Kary into his car on the street and if he didn’t hurry, if he didn’t find her in time, she’d end up dead like so many people Elliott had kidnapped before her. Fucker had a penchant for making people “disappear” if he hated them enough, though he’d never gone after someone so visible in the business world before. He’d thought she’d be safe from him. _Fucking idiot_.  


His brothers weren’t far behind, checking other development sites that Erik thought Elliott might bring her to. What better way to erase evidence, or a person, than to bury them in the bowels of a construction site? Midnight was with them, hoping to use her luck to keep her boss safe. He hoped it was enough. The need to find her throbbed thickly through him with every heartbeat.

When he reached the job site he had been heading for, he leaped off of his bike and ditched it before it had even finished revving down. The pain shooting through his ribs was an annoyance he tried to ignore; he didn’t have time for that shit. The lot was a mess of dug up terrain, concrete forms, and rebar that towered over him. It was silent, save for the sounds of his motorcycle’s dying engine. Elliott wasn’t here, he could feel it. Too empty. He had other sites to check, but something made him keep walking toward the basement-sized pit dug into the center of the lot.

Something was resting inside the pit. One look and he knew it was Kary. She was lying on a pile of gravel, hair fanned out around her head like some kind of red halo– _her hair wasn’t supposed to be red_ –

Sam slid down the embankment and kneeled beside her, his hands reaching out but hesitant to touch her. Subconsciously he knew what he would find but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Her skin was still warm to the touch, still soft like he was expecting. Her body was perfectly fine, beyond a bit of gravel dust that had fallen to rest on her clothes.

He didn’t want to look at her face, didn’t want to see anything but her smiling at him, tears in her eyes, voice soft as she whispered, “You saved me, Sam.”

There were tears in her eyes, but her expression didn’t match his mental image at all. Lips parted slightly and lined with blood, eyebrows raised, eyes staring forward. Empty. Such an empty expression, marred only by the hole perfectly centered in her forehead. From the front, it looked so minor, almost like a flesh wound.

He could feel warm, wet stickiness on the arm he had wrapped around her and he knew the back of her head must be worse, so much worse, but he couldn’t bring himself to look. Instead his fingers rose to press themselves to her eyelids, gently pulling them closed. His thumb absently wiped the tear trails from her cheeks as he marveled that the cliches were true, she really did look like she was sleeping. She was warm in his arms, _not for much longer, you’ve failed and now she’s gone. How many times had she died, in shock, in pain, too late, he was always too late_ –

His strange thoughts were temporarily shoved aside when a piercing scream broke his reverie. He didn’t want to look away from Kary, but when he woodenly lifted his head just a few inches he caught sight of several of his brothers and Midnight at the top of the embankment. She was the one screaming, hands curled around her ears, but the sound barely broke through the fog around him. When he looked down, for a fraction of a heartbeat, he almost believed the girl in his arms was alive; the tense tremors of his arm around her caused her bottom lip to tremble just a little, just enough for his breath to hitch before that sad excuse for hope was doused in ice. Frosty claws formed in his gut and crawled through his insides, climbing toward his neck. Sam was used to the feeling of hot rage from when he used to be called Aomaris, the “temperamental” brutish member of the Incubus gang, but now there was no heat left in him. It was slowly draining away, just like Kary’s. All that was left now was cold fury that threatened to tear him apart, and pure determination. Elliott wasn’t going to get away with this. 

When Sam stood, his motions stiff and stilted as he forced his muscles to obey, he lifted Kary’s body with him. His vision felt like it was distorted; he couldn’t directly concentrate on anything, but he could tell Erik was walking toward him by the stride of his approach. Even with Erik being the most articulate of them all, he had no words for this, and he simply stood in silence next to his brother. Sam turned and held Kary out to him, and when Erik reflexively lift his arms outward, he settled her in his brother’s hands. 

Her hair brushed Sam’s arms as he pulled away, and some words passed his lips but he couldn’t even remember what he had said, something like, “Stay with her, she shouldn’t be alone,” but he couldn’t be certain. He didn’t wait for Erik’s response before heading up the incline that led out of the pit, passing by Midnight kneeling with James next to her, attempting to comfort her. He didn’t register the soft words his brother spoke or the muffled cries of the girl in his arms– _at least she was still breathing_ – and he headed straight for his ditched bike. 

He didn’t check its condition before he pulled it upright and jammed his foot on the pedal to start the engine; he just swung his leg over and headed for the street. He didn’t have a destination or a method or a plan in mind, only one simple objective: find Elliott. He would search every damn block in the city if he had to. The frozen grip on his mind allowed for nothing else: no pause, no rest, only the pursuit of his target. Wherever the hell he had gone to, Sam would find him and make him pay, because vengeance was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

* * *

Over the next several weeks, Sam became a more and more frequent fixture at The Playground. At first he had locked himself away at the brothers’ warehouse loft, though he had managed to find some solace when Midnight came to visit him. She died a few days later however, murdered in some back alley and barely able to call for help before she slipped away. After that, Sam became restless, wandering the city and yet somehow always ending up back at Erik’s bar.

Matthew had been the one to notice the increasing pattern, as Erik was indisposed almost every waking moment of his day. Sam had certainly made a hell of a mess, and Erik and James were working harder than they ever had before to clean up after him. Despite Elliott Mercer’s atrocious personality and terrible business sense, he had been a very visible member of the city’s development community. Covering up his death was no easy task.

James handled the official proceedings as much as possible, going through intermediaries when necessary to cover his tracks. One small saving grace was that Elliott’s wife despised him, so getting her to accept the cover story of a mugging gone wrong had been easy enough. Damien had been the one to “arrange” the murder site, thankfully just in time before the police arrived, which made the story easier to believe. 

Erik worked on the less savory details. Palms needed greased. Accounts needed “settled.” He took care of the rumors, the beggars, and the numerous insufferable business partners, because in the end, James had given him nearly unlimited reign some of Elliott’s secret accounts so the scale was still tipped in the brothers’ favor at the end of the day. However, it did require quite a bit of running around in order to maintain the status quo in the city.

Kary’s affairs, on the other hand, were rather easy to put in order. She had had everything organized in advance, almost as if she knew that her time would run out sooner rather than later. Her will was cut and dry, listed every account and asset, and even had details in her safe deposit box that were specifically for the Anderson brothers in case of an emergency. 

Everything went to the girls. Kary had kept enough assets liquid so that immediate financial issues like the building’s mortgage payment and utilities were taken care of. She had specified that she didn’t want a funeral, just to be cremated as cheaply as possible. The instructions were to throw her ashes away, but Erik wasn’t sure if that’s what the girls or Sam would want. At the same time, now wasn’t the time to ask; after the loss of both Kary and Midnight, the girls didn’t need to be saddled with that kind of decision. As much as he didn’t want to be the steward of the small unmarked box that now held all that was left of the former owner of Lady Luck, Erik took it upon himself to keep it safe until it could be dealt with rationally.

Unfortunately, rationality seemed to be in short order. Most of Lady Luck’s employees weren’t sure what to do with themselves, and the only thing they could agree on was that they didn’t want to open the club. James, Matthew and Damien had taken to keeping an eye on the them; the two youngest brothers were doing their best to take care of them for their sake, though Erik could tell the eldest brother was going through the motions not only for the girls, but to distract himself from what he had lost. Unfortunately, that left Sam to Erik, and he wasn’t quite sure how to deal with the middle brother.

Sam had taken to drinking, first only at night, but as time passed he was often at The Playground’s bar for hours during the day as well. It had gotten to the point that the bar couldn’t simply eat the extra alcohol expenditures, and Erik had to create a line item in his budget that he dryly labeled “Fraternal Duties” to account for the additional liquor purchases. He hadn’t thought of it as a problem originally as he was away from the bar so often taking care of Elliott and Kary’s affairs, and then he assumed it was a stage of grief, and who was he to tell his brother how to grieve?

However, his drinking only worsened. Occasionally Sam would meander off but he’d inevitably return, and it was always in seemingly more and more melancholic disrepair. Getting him to shower in his drunken state was occasionally an ordeal after a particularly vicious bender, and Erik sometimes shared the chore of wrestling him into the bathroom himself. That’s when he noticed that Sam’s tattoos seemed to be evolving.

Small changes were made to the chains that circled his chest and shoulders, little additions that seemed to be freshly inked: a ship in the grip of a sea monster’s tentacles, a microphone, droplets of water dripping off of the chain links, some kind of talisman or necklace, a four leaf clover ripped in half, a hypodermic needle, a dagger through a tiara, some kind of fairy wing design on what looked like a torn banner, a bloody noose. In the center, the “Sexy Bitch” text that Erik had always loathed was now covered by a red piece of inked cloth that almost looked like a cloak. 

When he asked about them, no matter what state he was in, Sam refused to talk about them. Damien was the one who ended up wrestling some details out of him. It seemed that Sam’s mind was conjuring “memories” of other “lives” he and Kary had supposedly spent together. When confronted with reality, Sam would just smile sadly and return to his drink. The most Erik had gotten out of him at that point was a drunkenly murmured, “‘Dessa wouldn’t lie to me.”

Erik had dealt with a lot of strange circumstances, but this was one he had no idea how to fix. James was at a loss as well, and Damien was the only brother Sam would talk to even though Matthew was the one who served him drinks and kept an eye on him to make sure he didn’t pass out at the bar. Erik knew at some point they would have to have an intervention, but for the moment, without a plan other than to keep up the status quo, they let their brother continue to drink himself into the oblivion he needed.


	8. Chapter 8

“What do you mean, she’s a better witch than me?” Carrie nearly shouted into her phone, her voice rising in pitch but she didn’t care. She had soundproofed and warded her apartment when she moved in so she didn’t have to control her voice for her neighbors’ sake. “The hell is that supposed to mean, Sam??”  


She heard a deep chuckle from the other end. “That’s not what I mean, doofus. K helped me and my brothers come through to the human world.”

“I thought you said that Harold brought you through?”

“He did, but she was there too. We ended up in her cafe, actually. She helped him teach us what we needed to know and offered her help if we ever needed it.”

“So she knows that you’re demons, huh? Good thing she’s a witch.” 

“Hey, she didn’t tell us about those rules, don’t get on _my_ case about it.”

“I wouldn’t if you didn’t just call my abilities into question!” Carrie continued her tirade; she knew he was trying to rile her up, so she decided to indulge him, the ass. “I come from a very long line of Scandinavian kitchen witches, I’ll have you know. My mom taught me spells that have been handed down generations in her family.” She didn’t mention that some of the spells were as simple as prestidigitation to help stir pots while cooking, that was irrelevant. Not every spell had to be earth shattering to be important. “And my father’s family was known for their holy magic, my grandmother was very adamant in teaching me. She thought my mother’s demonic magic would ‘damn me to hell’ so she made sure to give me a thorough education.” She allowed herself a snort, remembering her strict grandmother. As much as Carrie loved her dearly, the woman had been a force to be reckoned with and more stubborn than a statue. 

“SO!” she punctuated loudly to pull herself out of her brief reverie, “There are plenty of witches out there who are more powerful than me, but don’t act like they all are!”

He was chuckling again, dammit. Ten bucks said he hadn’t heard a goddamn word she said because he was just proud of getting her all pissed off. Ugh. “Do you want to meet her and find out if she is?” he asked, his innocent tone not fooling her for a damn second.

Carrie let her voice turn super sweet. “Oh my, Mister Police Officer, are you asking me out on a date?”

“What?? No!! That’s not it at all!! What the hell, doofus?!”

_That’s right, eat those words, you dork!_ Though she was just a little frustrated that the idea of a date seemed that outrageous to him. “All right then, I’ll meet you at the Pink Lady in half an hour?”

“Fine!!”

The call ended immediately, to the point that she was certain that he smashed his finger on the “disconnect” button of his cell phone. Thank goodness he didn’t have a receiver to slam down, otherwise she knew her ear would be ringing. She immediately started tapping away at her phone, looking up the location of the Pink Lady Cafe and heading for her bedroom to change. Just because it wasn’t a date didn’t mean that she couldn’t look nice when she went out. He never noticed when she did, but she still did it anyway because it mattered to her, as much as she wished she didn’t care.

* * *

The best way Carrie could sum up the Pink Lady Cafe was that it was adorably pink. She stepped through the front doors and watched as the delicate bell tinkling overhead caught the attention of a woman behind the counter, her hair brilliantly red and smile bright. “Hihi, welcome to the Pink Lady!”

Carrie waved at her in response and passed by a couple quiet patrons as she approached the counter with the baked goods case next to it, her eyes immediately pulled towards the delicious goodies lying just beyond the glass. “…Wow,” she breathed, not even realizing the word passed her lips with her exhale until she heard the redhead behind the counter chuckle. 

“Yep! Pretty impressive, huh? Our baker’s name is Naomi, studied in France in everything! You won’t believe what she can do with egg whites and sugar.”

At the mention of “our baker,” Carrie straightened to address the woman directly. “Are you K, by chance?”

The woman stood stall and nodded sharply. “That’s me! K, at your service! Did you come to see me specifically for something?” 

Carrie held out her hand, pulling a little of her energy and sending it to her fingertips, just enough to make her handshake crackle a bit when she shook K’s hand. “I was told to come and meet you. It seems we might have similar hobbies.” 

K giggled and smiled conspiratorially. “Ooh, I believe we do! And who was it that outed my little secret?” 

“Does Sam Anderson ring a bell?”

The redhead looked taken aback for a moment, her smile turning a little bewildered. “Sam? What in the world has he gotten into?”

“Nothing crazy! At least, not that I know of. I ran into him when I was contracted to do an architectural investigation on an old house, and someone called the cops on me because I guess they thought I was a ghost?”

K gave her a sly smile that quickly broke into a wide grin as she laughed. Carrie waited until the other woman caught her breath before raising an eyebrow, silently wondering what was so funny. She was certainly was boisterous, if nothing else. “I think that was my fault,” K finally explained, her shoulders still shaking just a bit from her laughter. “You’re talking about the house that’s on Southwest Alder? You’re kidding! I’m the one who asked my realtor to look into it. I heard about what happened, I mean, I feel bad for the little girl of course, but to think there was actually a ghost? The house had gone unsold for so long because of the rumors that it was ‘haunted’ but I didn’t think it actually was!”

Carrie laughed then, though her eyebrows were drawn together in slight confusion. That was… quite a coincidence. Wasn’t it? Or was she reading too much into it? 

“Nice to meet you in person then, Carrie. Your report was pretty thorough, I wish I could buy the place but unfortunately it’s all tied up in police tape now. But! You and Sam, huh?” K wiggled her eyebrows. “Is it like that?”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “No, it’s not. We’re just friends, though he did tell me how you and Harold helped his brothers when they arrived in Chicago.” Part of her was a little excited to be speaking covertly about magical topics since she got the chance to do it so rarely. Hopefully she got her point across without seeming too weird for the other customers in the cafe.

“Ooooooooh,” K drawled, eyes sparkling. “So he told you about that, did he? He hasn’t told anyone else but you, I think. That makes you special, Carrie~”

“What are you going on about now?” Sam’s exasperated voice drifted over to them and the women turned toward him as he strolled through the cafe , hands in his pockets and a disgruntled look on his face.

Carrie crossed her arms, trying to force down the warm feeling filling her chest at seeing him by turning on the sass. “We were talking about you. In great detail. Mostly about how full of yourself you are.”

Sam shot her an exasperated look and K laughed cheerfully at the both of them. “Look at you two! Oh, you’ve got to keep me in the loop about how all this goes.” 

“‘All this’??” Sam asked, but Carrie was too busy rolling her eyes and trying to pretend she wasn’t blushing. 

“Carrie, you’ve got to give me your phone number, okay? We have _so_ much to talk about!” 

She passed her information on to K and as the shop owner sent her a text so that she’d have her information as well, another incoming text message scrolled across Carrie’s notification bar.

Noryn bby: leave me here to diiiiieeeeeee

Carrie frowned and immediately texted her friend back, eventually managing to deduce that Noryn was sick. Luckily it sounded more like a cold than the plague, so Carrie returned to the conversation. “Hey, I’m sorry to cut out so soon, but my friend is sick and I’d like to make her some soup and take care of her if that’s okay?” 

“Sure, sure, that’s fine! Go be the big sister,” K cheered as she reached down and quickly plucked a couple macarons from the pastry case and popped them into a little pink box with the cafe’s logo. “Here, take these to share with her, you can have them for free as long as you bring her back here sometime, okay?”

“Ah, sure, thank you so much!” Hopefully Noryn was well enough to eat them. If not, well, Carrie could always let her know how they tasted and bring her some when she was well to make up for it.

“Who is it?” Sam asked quietly as Carrie turned to leave, walking with her and holding the cafe door open for her as she left.

When she explained that it was Noryn, Sam nodded. “Hey, want me to come with? I can help keep her company, if you want. I’ve got work soon but I can stay for a little bit.”

“Huh?” She stopped on the sidewalk and looked up at him, blinking as she took in his serious expression. “U-Um, sure, no problem. I’m gonna pick her up and bring her over my place, if you wanna meet me there?”

Sam nodded and turned to head to his own pickup truck, hand buried in his pockets. She watched him go as she summoned her keys from the void inside her purse and turned toward her car’s driver side door. Sam hadn’t met Noryn before, though Carrie had certainly talked about the girl enough that he probably felt comfortable meeting her now. Although, Carrie had never mentioned Noryn’s propensity to discuss past lives, and she wondered how Sam would take that, especially since so many of Carrie’s seemed to end… well, disappointingly quickly, if not out and out violently, if what Noryn said was true anyway. Truthfully she tried not to think about that too much and focused on the “life” part of her past life stories instead.

Her mind continued to mull over the fact as she texted Noryn to bundle herself up and get ready to get picked up for some babying. It took until she had backed out of her parking space and was pulling back onto the road that she realized that she was overthinking this entirely. She had mentioned cooking for Noryn, and that’s was mostly likely what Sam was interested in: free food.

“God _dammit_ Sam!!”

* * *

“But wouldn’t that cause a chain reaction?” Carrie asked, pacing her apartment as she chewed on her lip. She had wanted to try a new warding spell for her apartment but hadn’t been certain in how to cast it, so she had called James to see if he had any insight. Since his education was based in the Abyssal Plains where magic was infinitely more common and he often thought about spells from a different angle, she found a lot of interesting new information when she discussed magic with him.

“Actually miss, the energies negate each other, if the wards are drawn properly. The anchor thread ensures that the energies are tied together and flow in the proper direction.”

She stopped and stared at the floor at her feet, quickly running over the items he had previously mentioned in her mind. “So… that’s the reason for the spell components? A physical tether?”

There was a bit of a commotion on James’s end, several male voices talking over each other, but she could still make out his reply. “Correct. They provide an outlet so that there’s protection against any fluctuations.”

She continued to stare at her floor. Of course, why hadn’t she thought of that? “James, you’re a genius.”

His soft chuckle made her smile. “It’s simply an issue in spellcasting that has crossed my path before. I’m happy to share the solution.” 

Before Carrie could ask another question, she heard a burst of expletives from the other line and she couldn’t help but laugh a little when she recognized the voices as belonging to Matthew and Sam. “Is Sam, ah, trying to help out at the cafe?”

James’s drawn out, long suffering sigh was enough of an answer to her question, but he had just begun to speak again when he was cut off by Sam shouting, “Leave him alone, alright? He’s talking to Carrie!”

The phone grew muffled as James presumably covered it with his hand to say something to his brothers, but some of Matthew’s teasing came though.

“– GRRRRRR I’M SAM AND — DEAL WITH FEELINGS! I’M GONNA PUNCH A WALL AND —- ALL ANGRY BECAUSE I LIKE—”

Sam’s roar of “MATTHEW I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD” made it through intact, as well as James’s shout of “ENOUGH, you two!!”

Thankfully James’s intervention seemed to bring the commotion to a halt, and he uncovered the phone to speak with her again in his usual soft tone. “Forgive me, miss. My brothers are enjoying testing the limits of my patience today.”

“No, no, it’s fine! I mean I don’t have to deal with them as often as you do, so I don’t mind their antics.” She smiled as her mind conjured a mental image of Sam and Matthew arguing in the Golden Crown Cafe, Sam getting worked up over pretty much nothing, and Matthew smiling that smug grin that she had come to appreciate. For such a young looking guy, he certainly was a devious little shit and knew just the right buttons to press to set Sam off.

“Antics would be one way to put it. I might even find some of it humorous if we weren’t currently open for business.” The sounds of murmured conversation and his brothers’ voices faded away; it sounded like James had moved to another room for a little quiet.

Carrie resumed her pacing around her apartment, glancing out of her windows at the late morning sunshine. “You still think Matthew’s funny? I thought after all this time, you’d be immune to his sass.”

“He’s quite perceptive, though I suppose not as much as Damien. Still, most of his incessant teasing tends to stem from the truth: for instance, on the topic of you.”

Words died in her mouth at the implication, and it took her a moment to form a response. “I… didn’t really make out what Matthew was saying earlier. Sorry, do you mean that Matthew was teasing Sam about me?”

“…Miss, have you not noticed that my brother is interested in you?”

Carrie pulled the phone away from her ear, fiercely fighting the sudden urge to hurl it at her couch before she brought it back to listen to the call again. Like hell he was! _‘A date?! That’s not it at all!!’_ She still hadn’t let that go, and probably never would, the dick. “He’s made it pretty clear that he doesn’t have any interest in me like that, trust me.”

“I’m sure his lack of communication skills are to blame for that impression. I believe his feelings are quite the opposite.” 

Seconds ticked by in silence as Carrie’s thoughts bounced around her mind, ricocheting off of the inside of her skull. James and Matthew thought… but how could that even be the case? Sam reacted almost violently anytime someone even implied that they were dating. How much more clear could you get than that? 

She could hear the hum of the open line in her ear; apparently James was content with letting her work this out. Except, she wasn’t actually working out anything, she was just mentally flailing. “James, I’m sure you think that and I appreciate you trying to play matchmaker, but I really don’t think that’s the case? I mean, I know he’s not as articulate as you are, but he’s made it abundantly clear that he rejects any hint of seeing me in that light. And I’m okay with that, he can like or dislike whoever he wants to whatever extent he wants! I just… don’t think you’re reading him correctly this time.”

She heard James sigh, but before he could respond, a door on his end squeaked open and the disjointed, muffled voice of someone muttering in the background drifted to the microphone on his phone. “Ugh, I mean — way. No fucking way, right? – wouldn’t — mean, why even would – ” 

“Oh, for the love of God,” James muttered under his breath. The sheer exasperation in his voice made Carrie involuntarily laugh, though the sound coming from her mouth was probably a little hysterical given her mental state. 

James covered up his phone to say something to whoever was passing through, and once he was finished, he returned to speaking to Carrie. “Miss, I appreciate your assessment but I’ve known my brother for a very long time, and I’ve lost count of the number of instances where he’s said one thing, usually inappropriate, and meant something entirely different. Don’t allow his poor communication skills to cloud your judgment on this. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to return to the front of the cafe to ensure that my brothers haven’t scared off the customers.”

She found herself nodding, even if he couldn’t see her. “No problem, thanks James. …Not just for the spell advice, I mean.”

He hummed softly before he responded, “It was my pleasure, miss.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to see the scene with Carrie, Sam and poor, sick Noryn? [Check it out as part of Noryn’s backstory Nine here](http://ziocho.tumblr.com/post/145431250590/nine-matthew-x-noryn)!


	9. Chapter 9

It was a miracle that Carrie was still up after midnight (damn Iri and Noryn for being bad influences on her), so she managed to catch the call instead of sleep through her phone ringing. The ringtone startled her nearly out of her chair and she fumbled for her phone, frowning when Sam’s name popped up on the screen. She swiped quickly to answer, bringing it up to her ear. “Hey, everything okay?”  


“I need to see you.”

The low growl that underlied his words gave her an involuntary shiver. “S-Sure, I’m home? Is there anything I can–”

She immediately stopped talking when two loud, powerful knocks sounded against her front door. Sliding her thumb along her phone’s screen, she ended the call and peeked through the peephole of her apartment door just to be safe. Yep, there was Sam, still in his police uniform, eyes averted, shoulders hunched. Her pulse picked up and goosebumps peppered her skin as she hurriedly unbolted the door and pulled it open. 

He moved past her quickly, his feet carrying him into her living room, and she shut the door and threw the bolt shut before following him, approaching his back cautiously. “Hey, Sam, talk to me, are you alri–”

Air rushed past her and her hair was still fluttering down to her shoulders when she realized he had spun and charged at her, pinning her against the wall. He was pressed against her, caging her in, his body heat rolling off of him and passing through his uniform and her thin nightshirt to wash over her skin. She watched in uneasy fascination as the green irises she was so used to melted into supernaturally glowing gold while he stared down at her, eyelids lowered as he stared at her mouth. Her heart gave a belated lurch as an explosion of heat in her core nearly made her sink to her knees– _holy shit_ –

Then he was gone, almost as if he had disappeared, the heat from his body still lingering. Carrie lowered her gaze and blinked in confusion at his sudden absence, finally settling her eyes on his form now standing on the far side of the room. He was running his hands through his hair, which was already mussed as if he had been doing that for some time. It took her a few seconds to catch the breath that had been expelled from her lungs, and she pushed away from the wall. “Sam…”

He exhaled heavily, shoulders slumping, the air hissing as if passing through gritted teeth, and she hesitated before continuing. “You need energy?” 

She took another step forward, then another, crossing the room to approach him and watching as his hands fell to his sides and balled into fists, his muscles wracked with minuscule tremors. “…Yeah. Fuck…”

He needed sexual energy? Shit, after being pinned to the wall like that, she had it in abundance. That look he had given her alone was still making her shiver. She knew she wasn’t in any danger; she had been studying up on incubi ever since she had confirmed that was his and his brothers’ true nature, and even if he took every ounce of energy she had, a good night’s sleep would be enough to recharge. Honestly, she had felt him sneak small amounts from her before when they first met but ever since he had found out she was a witch, he hadn’t done it again, perhaps since she was able to recognize him sneaking those little sips of energy unlike a normal human.

“Sam, if…” she began, but as soon as she spoke his name, a visible shudder ran over his body. She trailed off, weighing her options. He needed energy. She could easily just slip her hand over his, let him take some to help take the edge off, and get in back to some semblance of working order before they figured something else out. Or… she could do something more drastic.

Her eyes traced the width of his shoulders, the sweeping curve of his spine, the way his ass looked in those pants (how one man, even an incubus, could have that kind of booty game was goddamned criminal), and the whispered urge in her mind became a dull roar. 

He inhaled, softly at first, then his chest expanded as he took in a deeper breath. His voice was a hoarse whisper when he spoke her name, almost a warning. “Carrie…” 

He probably smelled it on her. Damn demon senses. An errant thought crossed her mind, wondering exactly what her scent smelled like was to him, but she had more important things to worry about right now. _Put up or shut up, Carrie_. She knew that if he was that… hungry, for lack of a better word, it wouldn’t take much for his instincts to take over. She just needed to give him a push. Time to see if James really was as perceptive as he thought he was, or if everything was about to go up in flames.

Carrie’s hand rose slowly as she tried to work up the courage to do something. Once she brushed against the skin of his forearm, however, she felt herself almost pulled into action. She pushed his arm aside to gain access to his collar, wrapped her fingers around the cloth and yanked.

She kept her face tipped downward until he was closer, just to make sure she didn’t bash their teeth together, before lifting her chin and forcefully pressing her lips to his. Her chest seemed to solidify for a moment, lungs seized, heart stopped, until the warmth formed by the kiss began to melt over her skin and she relaxed just a little, her other hand rising to his slide up and across his shoulder.

Surprisingly, she didn’t feel him pulling any of her energy away, so she broke the kiss and frowned up at him, her eyes almost crossing to meet his. “Sam, it’s okay, you can take–”

The rest of her words were forgotten as she found herself pushed up against a wall again, breath flying from her mouth in a rush as suddenly his lips were on hers, swallowing her exhale and _devouring_ her. She felt the pull of energy out of her and into him and she fueled it, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip as she channeled her energy toward him and forced it to go faster. _Take it all._

Her knees nearly gave out at the sudden lightheadedness that threatened to overwhelm her. Sam responded by sliding an arm around her waist to pull her tight against him, grinding his hips against hers, pushing her into the wall to keep her upright. Her hands found their way around his neck and down his shoulders, grasping at handfuls of his uniform. Her core was sparking with heat and the pull of energy left her floating, blissful and warm. She traced the underside of his tongue with hers, relishing the moan that rumbled in his throat. 

The heat, the pull, the pleasure… it was too much. She forced the last remnants of her energy toward him, letting the encroaching quiet darkness envelop her mind. She felt her head tip backward but she was unconscious by the time it met the wall.

* * *

Carrie’s leg had a mind of its own as she awakened; it was sweeping slow arcs through the sheets, trying to find the edge of the bed and failing somehow. That was strange, she always slept on the edge of the bed. She was warm and wanted to pull the sheets off but couldn’t find the side for the life of her. Finally her leg stretched far enough to catch the edge of the comforter, and she hooked it around her foot and slowly pulled it back so that the cooler air of the bedroom settled on her skin and helped prickle her brain awake.

It took some time for the content hazy lull of her mind to start forming coherent thoughts. She had slept so soundly, but she didn’t feel hazy, just happily rested. Her eyes opened as she turned her head, but she was far enough from the nightstand that she couldn’t see her alarm clock. What time was it even?

Carrie had just begun rolling over and shuffling across the cool sheets toward the side of the bed when she nearly flopped onto her face, remembering Sam’s visit the night before. … _Wow_. The images rising into her mind were enough to kickstart her heart into pumping faster, which helped in bringing her into wakefulness pretty darn quick. 

Her gaze was fixed on the alarm clock but she didn’t note the time because her brain was stuck on repeat, Sam’s hooded, molten gold eyes distracting her from everything. She wasn’t sure how long she laid there, trying to get up, but it took physically shaking her head to divert her thoughts long enough to actually get out of bed. After she swung her legs over the side of the mattress and used the momentum to slide out of bed, it was easier to keep the inertia going and head to the bathroom to get a shower.

She was walking around the corner toward her living room while combing her wet hair with her fingers when a sudden clatter from her kitchen made her stop short. Luckily her panic was mitigated somewhat when she heard Sam’s voice muttering, “Fucking hell, I know those plates are around here somewhere, seen them a million fucking times…” followed by some more rummaging. 

Why was Sam here? _Still_ here?? She backpedaled and headed back to her room, closing the door quietly. She needed to get dressed. No way was she able to handle Sam while wearing nothing but a towel. Lord, she’d probably drop it. Nope. Hell no. Her eyes drifted to her closet and she debated putting together a cute outfit for about three seconds before she gave up on the idea and just put on jeans and a henley that bordered on the decently-clingy-so-it-looks-slightly-cute side. 

Though normally she preferred the old fashioned way of getting ready with a hair dryer, she didn’t want to spend five minutes in the bathroom with that noisy thing so she cast a quick spell to dry her hair and took a couple deep breaths before opening her door again. Her face felt tight as she moved toward the kitchen, but she kept going before she lost her nerve. 

Yep, Sam was in her kitchen, apparently cooking breakfast. When he saw her he dropped the spoon he was holding into a pan with a clatter, the sound making her nearly jump out of her skin. “Ah, good morning?” she offered, not meaning to end the phrase with a question but she couldn’t help the upward pitch of her voice as she spoke. 

He seemed to choke on his words as he responded, his eyes meeting hers before darting back toward the pan on the stove. “Hey. Uh, good morning. Figured you might need breakfast after last… night. Yeah.” 

Her eyes scanned his expression carefully, but it didn’t tell her much beyond him being kind of nervous, or taken aback, or something else she couldn’t decipher. Heaven knew her brain was just a bit fried at the moment.  “Thanks, I appreciate it. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, but…” Sam stood frozen for a moment, eyes still averted, before he sprung into motion again. He flicked off the burner, moved the pan aside and stepped out of the kitchen, stopping a couple paces away from her with his shoulders slumped forward. “Listen. I’m sorry about last night. I went too far, it wasn’t supposed to be like that.“

Chills washed over her skin. Wasn’t supposed to be like that? Of course. He had just needed energy. That passion, that intensity, that enthrallment, it was just… part of getting what he needed. What was a kiss to an incubus, anyway? It dawned on her that she was silly to have read any more into it than that. ”…Oh. Right. Just thirsty, huh?“

His eyebrows drew together but he still wouldn’t look her in the eye. "Y-Yeah.”

That was it. That was all. He was probably feeling guilty that she got so into it when just holding his hand or whatever would have sufficed to satisfy his hunger. Stupid human girl. _He’s a demon, an **incubus** , for fuck’s sake. Why would something as basic as a kiss mean anything to him?!_

She could feel something trembling in her chest, and she gulped in a small breath to try and keep her heart from squeezing too tightly. “Okay, Sam. I’m sorry if I made anything weird last night, I know it probably wasn’t a big deal for you but… Just, listen up cause I’m only going to say this once, alright?” Her hands balled into fists and she pressed them into her thighs as she fought to keep her voice even. “ _I like you, you dork!_ But I don’t want some stupid crush to affect our friendship, because I really like spending time with you. So just… talk to me, tell me what I’m supposed to do if you need energy? Or at least warn me?? I don’t… want to feel used.” The silence from him was making her self-conscious so she lowered her eyes to the floor and spoke faster, words nearly tumbling out of her mouth. “I don’t mind helping you recharge, but it’s a really shitty feeling if we go that far and there’s nothing else behind it and I know that it’s different for demons, so I probably seem like a gigantic fucking drama queen and–” 

Carrie almost stepped back instinctively when she sensed something move in front of her, and she tilted her head up to try and see what it was and felt Sam’s lips come down on hers. She inhaled sharply, fighting the urge to continue moving backward; he had kept his arms at his sides, giving her the space to retreat if she wanted to. She allowed her lips to soften, and before she knew it he pulled away, his eyes trained on her expression. 

She stared up at him, dumbfounded, completely unable to sort out _what the fuck– did he even hear a word– does he STILL need energy??_

Her mouth hung open for probably before too long before she frowned and licked her lips briefly before nearly shouting, "What did I _just_ say–”

Sam didn’t even have to speak to cut her off; his gaze dropping to her lips was enough to make her brain short circuit. _It’s official, I’m a fucking mess._ She was in the process of trying to reassemble words to form some kind of sentence when his low murmur ended all semblance of thought for her. “I don’t want to get it from anyone but you, Carrie. Not after… I mean… _Fuck_ , you taste good…”

She wished she weren’t staring at him, but she was incapable of much else. His words were echoing in her ears but she was having a hard time processing them. “…Uh??” Apparently, forming a response was beyond her as well. All she could do was watch his expression as the slight redness in his cheeks (how long had that been there?) continued to bloom until his entire face was nearly glowing.

Sam’s hand rose to rub the back of his neck and his shoulders hunched forward self-consciously. “Do I have to say it? Ugh. Look, I like you too, doofus. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but… yeah.” 

He liked her. And she liked him. Carrie’s mind continued to flounder before her head drooped and she leaned forward to rest against his chest. When one of his hands settled itself onto her hair, hers rose to circle his waist, slowly pulling herself toward him. What a trainwreck. She had never claimed to be eloquent, but that had probably been the most awkward, roundabout confession she had gone through in her entire life, and that was saying something. She huffed a breathy exhale as she pulled herself closer to him, trying to absorb his warmth as she also tried to let everything sink in. Wanting to be held by him like this was okay? Wanting more was… okay.  That was going to take a little getting used to. “…I can’t even look at you right now. You freaking dork.”

* * *

Everything seemed to settle from there, though the transition wasn’t exactly easy. There were a few awkward silences, a lot of blushing, and some quiet handholding to help reassure each other. Carrie was the one to timidly begin bridging the touching gap that seemed surprisingly difficult to cross at first, with gentle fingers sifting through his hair, lingering touches when their hands met, up to even sitting on his lap. 

Soon his hands were mimicking hers, drifting along her arms, touching the shell of her ear, pulling her into his side when they were on the couch. Even still, hand holding in public seemed an insurmountable obstacle to him that never failed to make him blush, and she had no qualms in using that against him. Once she began to tease him with that, the tension seemed to be broken and they were back to bickering a good portion of the time, only now their verbal sparring ended with tickling battles or sweet, long kisses that made them both forget what they were arguing over in the first place. 

A few months later, Carrie was trapped at home with a violent cough and a fever that just refused to break for several days. She had had to insist that Sam not take any time off work to take care of her, but that didn’t stop him from stopping by whenever he wasn’t on shift. She had given him a copy of the key to her apartment and the method to get past her protective wards just in case, but now he was using those to sneak into her apartment to kiss her forehead before he went to work or drop by to make sure she had something to drink for her sore throat.

Unfortunately, he had never dealt with a sick human before, so there were some hiccups along the way that amused her. She awoke once to find a towel wrapped around some ice on her forehead when her fever flared up, and he had also handed her a cup of straight honey “for her throat” before she explained that normally a little bit in tea was all that was needed. He seemed to be getting information from either James or Matthew, and she wasn’t sure what was being lost in translation and what was a prank. When she could take a picture without hurting Sam’s feelings, she had taken to sneaking one of his latest crazy idea and sending it to Matthew with the text, “Was this your idea??” If nothing else, she was sure he’d get a kick out of it (and some ammunition as well).

His latest scheme was to make her soup, and he refused to let her help so she was lying on the couch in her living room bundled up in a blanket, alternately browsing her phone and putting it down so that she could rest her eyes. She couldn’t see around the wall into the kitchen, and her nose was particularly stuffy so she couldn’t smell much at all, so she was relying on the sounds of sizzling ingredients followed by slow simmering to guess that he was on the right track. 

When her phone began to ring, she quickly swiped and fought down a swallow past the burning in her throat before holding it up to her ear. “Hey, Matthew.”

“Yeouch, you sound pretty horrible, Carrie. Are you sure you’re okay?”

She let out a scratchy chuckle. “Maybe you should stop giving Sam bad advice so I’ll actually get better faster.”

“Hey, don’t look at me! That meathead screws things up on his own!” His laugh was just devious enough that she knew he had some hand in it. What a little snot. “Sorry for bothering you, I know your throat hurts, but I just wanted to make sure I’ve got everything right. You said to follow the mousse recipe for the cake but cut back on the gelatin, right?”

She tried to hum her agreement. “Yeah, if you use the full amount, it tends to be too thick. Half should do it. Are you sure you’re okay to deliver it to Iri? I know the Golden Crown doesn’t really do that kind of thing, but…”

“No worries! You should be thinking about getting better, not worrying about birthday cakes for your friend. Delivery’s really no problem, she doesn’t live far away anyway. Think of it as payment for keeping me entertained with Sam’s antics!”

“Not to mention you’re way ahead of me when it comes to decorating, I can’t make anything as cute as you can so I know she’ll love it. Thanks, Matthew. You’re a lifesaver.” 

“Anytime, Carrie. Feel better, okay?”

After saying goodbye and hanging up, she tried to swallow and winced at the fire that ignited in her throat again, and she reached over to the coffee table to take her mug of hot tea in hand and sip at it. Thank goodness for Matthew. She didn’t want to miss out on Iri’s birthday, but there was no way she was up to making a cake right now. It made her feel like a failure, but she’d make it up to her friend later. Iri had been so withdrawn lately, throwing herself into her schoolwork to the detriment of nearly everything else, and she refused to talk about what was bothering her so Carrie hadn’t been able to do much except shower her in food and baked goods when she could. College was pretty much a nightmare, she knew, so hopefully it really was just school that was bothering her. 

Sam appeared at the entryway to the kitchen, a steaming bowl in his hand. She sighed in relief as he brought it over, but her gratitude was cut short when he lowered it in front of her and saw that it was a bowl of chili.

A scratchy laugh bubbled up in her throat that quickly morphed into a cough. Once she had gotten it under control, she looked up at Sam with a smile. “Chili, Sam?”

He stared down at her, wide-eyed. “Well, yeah, that’s soup, right? …What? Did I seriously just fuck up again?”

All Carrie could do was shake her head. That’s what she got for expecting chicken soup and not spelling it out for him, though honestly, “soup” seemed pretty self explanatory to her. Ah well. She shifted to sit up, pulling the blanket along with her to help keep her chilled body warm, and she hunched over the bowl and pulled a spoonful to her lips. 

Bad idea. The moment she began to chew and the spicy heat coated her tongue, she began to choke, and swallowing down the acidic tomato chunks only made her cough harder. Sam pulled the bowl out of her hands as she she fought to stop her violent coughing reflex, and she gulped down a large swig of her tea before diving for the tissues and blowing hard. If nothing else, the heat of whatever crazy peppers he had used was helping to clear her sinuses a bit, but man, she wasn’t sure if she could eat another spoonful. 

When she finally sat back on the couch, back to some semblance of sick but functioning, Sam placed the bowl on the table and sank down beside her with a heavy sigh. “…Shit, I really did fuck up again, didn’t I.”

She didn’t have the strength to do anything but allow herself to slide sideways and rest her head on his shoulder. “It’s okay, it’s just… tomatoes are a bit too acidic for my throat right now. And I’m a wuss when it comes to spice, too. How many peppers did you put in that, anyway?”

“Like, four for the whole pot. It’s that bad?”

“Wasn’t joking, I’m a wuss.” She sniffled and scooted herself into a comfy position as he wrapped his arm behind her back to pull her into his side. His other hand helped to pull the blanket up over her shoulder, and her mind drifted away, she wasn’t sure for how long. The cocoon of warmth from both Sam and the blanket lulled her into a doze. 

At length she inhaled sharply and blinked, not sure if she had been staring off into the distance or had actually fallen asleep for a bit. Had the light changed in her apartment? She couldn’t tell if much time had passed or not. 

“You alive?” Sam asked softly, and she could feel the reverberating hum of his chest as he spoke. 

She nodded slowly in response, and as her eyes scanned the living room, she noticed the chili bowl was still on the coffee table, and from the lack of steam rising off of it, she assumed that it was cool by now. Ugh. She really ought to at least put the chili away in the fridge, maybe do whatever dishes were left. He probably wouldn’t get mad at her if she didn’t do them, but he did cook for her and she needed to offer something. He had been doing so much to take care of her, and she was getting better, at least a little bit. She had to start doing her part. _You can do that much Carrie, make it equal, before he starts to resent you for being useless. Just like your last boyfriend…_ She despised that nagging voice in her head; despite time and distance, her ex was still influencing stupid little things she did. Still, even though she knew it was stupid, she felt that need to pitch in. Sam deserved so much and she didn’t want to take him for granted.

Carrie sat up with a groan and Sam’s hand lingered on her waist before he lifted it to her shoulder to make sure she was steady. She planted her feet to make sure she had good footing before pushing herself up off of the couch, letting the blanket slide off of her shoulders as she leaned down to grab the bowl of chili. Yep, barely lukewarm. She must have been out for a while. 

“H-Hey, what are you…” Sam trailed off as he stood, his hand reaching out and hovering next to her arm to catch her, and he followed her as she shuffled to the kitchen. “Carrie, what the hell? I’ve got it.”

“Sam, it’s okay, you cooked, it’s the least I can do–”

He physically positioned himself between her and the stove where the pot with the leftovers sat, crossing his arms. “Just go sit down, alright? I’ve got this.”

“Are you sure? I can do it, I want to be fair to you.”

She lifted her eyes to watch his confused expression, his eyebrows drawing tightly together. “’Fair?’ What the– Doofus, sit your ass down. You’re sick. You baby me enough, I just wanna take care of you, all right?”

She could feel her shoulders deflating, and he plucked the bowl from her hands just in time. A sigh passed her lips. “Just… you know I’m not lazy, right? I want to help?”

“Being sick isn’t being lazy, for fuck’s sake. Just sit!” His tone was forceful but not angry, and she could feel his eyes on her as she shuffled back to the couch. Hopefully she got better soon so she could make it up to him.   



	10. Chapter 10

Kary was seated at the piano in the deserted choir rehearsal room, finger hovering over the stanza of music she was examining and counting the lines to make sure she played the correct note. She wasn’t that good at sight reading music unfortunately, and she was trying to rehearse the piece they had just gotten so she wouldn’t drag the rest of the altos down. **  
**

Luckily it seemed easy enough, and the bouncy rhythm had her wiggling in the seat as she sang a few bars softly before checking another note. She was happy to finally be performing something contemporary with the rest of the contest choir, since they were so often mired down in pretty but predictable classical music.

She was in the middle of a high note (for her at least), and she was concentrating more on being in tune than being forceful so the note sounded thin as it echoed in the choir room, but it was strangled abruptly when she heard the door to the choir room swing closed.

Kary cautiously peeked around the piano toward the door to see a brown haired boy standing by the entrance, hands in his pockets, looking a little sheepish. She thought she recognized him from her contest choir, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure; he definitely wasn’t a senior like her. “H-Hey,” she said quietly, her words carrying across the empty room easily. “Were you looking to practice?”

One of his feet slid backward, as if he were about to turn around. “Yeah, but I mean, you were here first, I can go.” 

“No, no, it’s okay! I mean, if you’d rather practice alone that’s cool, but I don’t mind company at all. Which song did you want to work on?”

He paused another moment before he approached the piano and she slid to the right to allow him to sit next to her on the wide piano bench. “I think it was the one you were singing? Daemon Irrepit Calidus, right?”

Yep, he was in her contest choir. “Yeah, it’s kind of a mess of a piece, but I think it’ll sound pretty cool once it’s all together and we have some freaking clue of how it goes. I’m Kary, by the way, one of the altos.”

“Sam. Yeah, the rhythm’s kind of a bitch, I don’t even know.”

He was one of the baritones, a sophomore she found out, so she worked with him especially on the parts where the altos and baritones bounced off of each other. The syncopated rhythm was a real bitch to get synced up, but Kary was happy to show him and tap it out so that he got the hang of it. Some of the parts were consistently on the off beat so without something to base the rhythm off of, it was hard to keep track of when to come in. 

When the period was nearly finished, Kary moved to pack up and offered to give Sam her number so he could text her if he needed any help in the future. He did end up texting her later on, at first about choir music, and then about the kind of music she liked to listen to, and that continued on to other topics.

She was happy to make a friend, especially one as cute as Sam, though her friends gave her endless crap for “robbing the cradle.” When they found out he was one of the popular Anderson brothers however, their tone changed, and suddenly all of them wanted nothing more but the latest gossip about them and a hand in nudging them to ask one of the girls out. 

Sam and Kary didn’t start actually dating until more than halfway through her senior year, mostly because they were both stubborn and immediately dismissed any notion that the other liked them “that way” at all. Once they had some sense knocked into them, however, they lamented that they had wasted so much of her senior year being naive. Kary’s first and only previous boyfriend Zach, another senior, made no secret of his displeasure that she was lowering herself to date a sophomore, and he made it a point to endlessly smear her to his friends. Luckily Sam and his brothers were able to put a stop to most of the rumors, most of the time, but that didn’t stop them from being hurtful.

A week before graduation, there was a tense confrontation between Sam and Zach at the end of the school day in the parking lot that began when Zach threatened to hurt Kary for sinking so low as to go out with “trash like him.” Luckily the other Anderson brothers were nearby to help counteract the strength in numbers that Zach’s friends were providing, but pushing came to shoving and the only reason they disbanded the fight in a hurry was because one of the onlookers shouted that the principal was on his way.

That weekend, Kary was found floating face down in her family’s pool. 

The official police investigation was inconclusive, and ruled her death an accident. Sam had fought with school officials, even going to the police station himself, trying to get them to listen because he _knew_ that Zach was behind it, but no one listened. And when his mind began to conjure memories of Kary that didn’t make sense, but seemed so real, he had wanted to panic. Unfortunately when his mother asked about why he was so upset, he had told her the truth.

* * *

“Are you sure that the dosage needed to be increased, Doctor Mayer?”

“Unfortunately your son is still having episodes, Ms. Anderson. At our most recent therapy session, I believe the delusion he discussed with me involved dragons and sea monsters, and he was vehemently arguing that it was in fact based in reality.”

“But he’s… I’m sorry, but with the recent medications, he just seems so… empty, like there’s nothing going on in his head at all. Before, he used to be… It’s just so hard to see him like this.”

“I understand, Ms. Anderson. I’m sorry but this is the safest course for your son.”

“When can we take him off of the medication? Will it ever happen?”

“If he comes to understand that his delusions aren’t part of reality, then we can begin to wean him off of the medications and treat him with therapy. If he still refuses to accept that, however… I’m afraid that there’s not much else we can do.”   



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads up, this part mostly isn’t mine! I wrote the intro but the actual smut was written by the talented and beloved smut fairy. I wanted only the best for these two dorks! Don’t worry, I bribed her with gifts to thank her for all her beautiful work.

The daylight in the forest was just beginning to dim as Carrie pulled on Sam’s hand, leading him along a dirt path through the undergrowth. He was obediently keeping silent beyond a bit of over-exaggerated grumbling after she had told him that she was showing him a secret place that meant a lot to her. They had been walking for nearly twenty minutes from the trailhead where they parked; while the path was easy enough to walk with little elevation change, she knew he would probably get grumpy soon. Luckily, the wardstone she had been looking for that stood about a dozen feet from the path was just coming into view, and the soft aura around it was blue. Perfect.  


She pulled him off of the path and toward the nondescript stone that stood just a few feet off the ground. When she stopped beside it, she turned and beamed at him, watching as he frowned at the stone. The colorful glow it gave off was only visible to those with a sense for magical auras. “Wardstone,” she explained cheerfully. “Since it’s blue, no one else is in the area up ahead. If anyone was there, it’d be red so we would know to expect company.”

“And what exactly is up ahead?” he asked pointedly.

She responded with another smile and began to tug him along by the hand again. Not too much farther ahead the trees finally gave way to a wide clearing in the forest, the overgrown grass bending gently in the evening breeze as the air began to cool. Ahead the terrain rose on one side and broke into a rock-faced cliff, with a waterfall that landed in a deep, wide pool that fed a stream meandering off into the forest. It was a beautiful, pristine space.

Sam squeezed her hand and she grinned at him before stepping forward and throwing her hands out, orbs of light shooting from her fingertips to hang in the air around them and illuminate the clearing. She turned back to him, tongue tucked behind her teeth as she fought and failed to keep her smile from spreading. “Those wardstones? They also keep normal humans away. If one wanders too close, they immediately assume they’re lost and turn back. It keeps this clearing safe, so you can use whatever magic you want here. It’s… a place to be yourself.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise before his smile grew to match hers. Her heart warmed at the sight; she could sometimes feel how much he struggled to fit himself to the human world, but at his core, he was a demon. There was so much more to him.

It took a bit of her energy, but she reached out a hand and with a soft incantation lifted one of the large boulders that was lodged in the clearing and sent it through the air toward Sam. She had seen his speed and his strength and knew how simple it would be for him to take it out, but the ease at which he caught it in midair and slammed it back into the ground still caught her by surprise. The powerful glint in his eye was making her heart race, and she tucked her bottom lip into her teeth to keep her mouth from hanging open. _Hot damn._

He was watching her, eyes bright, and she swept her hand out toward the rest of the clearing. “It’s yours, Sam. You don’t have to bother with your glamor spell if you don’t want to. Just… be you.”

His gaze flicked away and suddenly he vanished from sight, racing off somewhere, using the full extent of his demon speed. She pulled her red shawl tighter around her shoulders as she strolled through the grass, hands out, palms down as she let her senses brush across the magical energy that permeated the ground below her. It was almost like walking across a sun-warmed beach, but the earth below her radiated energy rather than heat. She wasn’t usually one for destruction or rearranging the space; just feeling the ebb and flow of magic and those who came before her was enough make her feel recharged, like she was allowed to be more than just another normal human for once. 

By the time she made her way over to the edge of the pool and kicked off her shoes she finally caught sight of a green blur at the top of the waterfall that she assumed was Sam, just as he leaped over the edge toward the water that stretched to her feet.

She sat on the rocky edge and watched the form plummet into the pool while she dipped her feet into the cool water. The cold combined with the magic that permeated the glade made her skin prickle with a chill that was both foreign and welcoming. She watched as the blur beneath the water of the pool approached her, now with a lazy slowness. His horns were the first thing to surface, water streaming from his messy brown hair as it followed.

He strode toward her as his feet found purchase and eventually stood before her, submerged up to his hips in the water. Her eyes swept along the strokes of color on his skin, taking their time in absorbing his muscles, his markings, his form, everything. Her eyes were drawn to the water coursing down his chest and abs, following the trails formed by rivulets, then drops, their pace slowing in tantalizing increments as they meandered down his skin. It took measurable effort to tear her eyes away, worried that if she continued to stare, she might inadvertently reach out to follow the path of the water droplets with her finger. Or her tongue. She caught a hint of his smile as he watched her take in the details of his true appearance. 

“Like what you see?” Sam asked her with an almost smug grin, a rush of heat riding her quickened pulse at the demonic undertone in his voice.

Carrie smirked back, head tilted as she arched a brow at him. “And if I do?” she murmured, letting her red shawl slide a bit lower. Apparently Sam hadn’t been expecting that answer, a light blush beginning to color his cheeks before he narrowed his eyes at her as she scooted forward, closer to the edge. He cleared his throat, shrugging as he crossed his arms over his chest, nearing where she was so they they were directly in front of each other.

“Well…” Sam leaned down, his face inching closer to hers so that their lips were nearly touching. “Maybe I like what I see, too.”

With that, one of Sam’s arms reached out to curl around her waist, dragging her into the water as her red shawl fluttered to the ground behind her. His lips against hers cut off any protest before it could form, her hands moving to clutch at his biceps, nearly whimpering at the strength she could feel emanating from his body–the full _power_ of his demon form. He kissed her almost roughly, passionately as though he couldn’t get enough of her, one of his arms tightening around her while his opposite hand moved to cup her cheek. His tongue caressed hers, swirling over it hesitantly, teasingly, making her toes curl as they continued kissing. Her hands moved up, fingers sifting into his hair as she pulled his face closer, losing herself in their deep kiss as the fingers on her waist grazed up the curve of her spine. Sam’s tongue explored along hers, a sensual touch that had her whimpering into the kiss, before he pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. His emerald green eyes seemed oddly dark, something lurking within them that sparked a flash of heat rushing through her.

“I…” Carrie trailed off, blinking as if clearing a haze from her mind. She registered the odd coolness of the bottom of her legs, the feeling of heavy material around her calves growing uncomfortable and making her scrunch up her nose. “Sam! The water, you dork! Ahhh, now my jeans are wet…”

Sam didn’t seem sorry at all, merely shrugging his shoulders with a smug little grin as his grip around her loosened. “Whoops, my bad.”

Carrie arched a brow at the incubus, feeling a little mischievous as she slipped from his grasp, and she gave him a seemingly carefree smile as she pulled herself out of the water and turned so her back was to him. Her fingers slipped to the front of her jeans, unfastening the front and shaking her hips as she started shimmying the pants down slowly, her tone light and teasing as she called over her shoulder, “Well, I can’t just go around in wet jeans, now can I?”

She could feel Sam’s gaze on her, watching her as she started stripping in front of him. Wasn’t it dangerous to play with a demon? Especially a powerful incubus, one of the sons of the Demon Lord himself? That hint of danger sent a thrilling little rush through her. If it were any other demon she might be worried, but this was _Sam_. She tossed her jeans to the ground, stretching her arms up over her head and letting her shirt ride up to give him an extra eyeful. She glanced back at him with a flirtatious smirk. “Mm! That’s better. Now, I wonder what I should– _ah_!”

Carrie broke off with a gasp as arms wrapped around her and suddenly she felt weightless, a rush of wind flying by her face until everything spun to a stop and she found herself sitting on the edge of a tree stump, Sam standing between her legs and staring down at her with his hands on either side of her hips. Her eyes unwittingly fell to his completely naked lower body, her lips parting with a soft exhale as she noted how, well, _big_ he was. _Was that an incubus thing, or was it just him?_ She was also surprised to note how the green tattoos that covered his body also apparently extended to his cock–three green spirals curling up from the base. A low rumble from Sam had her looking up again, her breath catching at his intensely piercing gaze as he growled, “What are you playing?”

“What?” Carrie had no idea what he meant. Were they suddenly playing a game? “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? You _know_ what I mean! You–you’re being a tease or something, and you _really_ shouldn’t be! _I’m_ the demon here, I should be seducing you, not the other way around!” Before Carrie could even think of some sort of rebuttal, Sam’s hands moved to cup her cheeks as he swooped in and pressed his lips to hers, the force of the kiss pulling a small whimper from her. One of his knees moved to rest between her legs, and she shuddered when his thigh shifted and rubbed against her already wet sex through her panties. His hand fell to her waist as he broke away from her lips, moving to trail kisses down to her neck and suck softly at the skin, another gasp escaping her throat.

“S-Sam…” She let out a pleased sigh, one of her hands resting on his arm while she slid slightly chilled fingers down his toned chest, tracing the abs and admiring the feeling of them under her palm before she teasingly ran a single finger over the length of his hard cock. She wrapped her hand around the base, enjoying the feel of him in her palm as she stroked him almost lazily. Sam’s sharp inhale had her smiling in smug amusement, trying to quell the embarrassed nerves fluttering in her stomach. It wasn’t like she was a virgin but still, to be with Sam like this–an incubus, a sex demon– was a little nerve-wracking. …A sex demon. Had he been with others before? He must have; he was an _incubus_ , after all. She doubted he had been sneaking energy just from touches all this time.

Carrie supposed she would just have to use every skill in her arsenal to make sure she didn’t disappoint him. The hand she had on his arm fell to his stomach, and she pushed him gently while murmuring, “Move back a little, Sam…”

He blinked in surprise at her but did as she requested, taking a few steps away and Carrie took the chance to kneel in front of him, her hand still slowly pumping his cock while her other hand curled around the base. Sam’s eyes were wide as he stared down at her, a flush coloring his cheeks, “W-Wait, doofus, are you–? You don’t _have_ to…!”

“I want to. So unless you want me to stop, I suggest you shush.” Her tone was light, almost sassy, and Sam only swallowed hard as his eyes fixated on her. Carrie was a bit puzzled by how tense he seemed, but she knew how she could help him unwind, leaning in and dragging her tongue along the underside of his cock. She could hear the way his breathing had hitched, noted the fingers she could see twitching at his sides as though he were uncertain as to what to do with them. She peered up at him for a moment and offered, “You can hold my hair back for me, if you want.”

He blinked down at her before nodding, his fingers gentle as they pushed her hair back and away from her face. Carrie shot him a quick, thankful smile before she leaned in and peppered kisses along the length of his cock up from the base, her tongue tracing the prominent veins and curved demon markings before she wrapped her lips around the tip. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, making him groan softly as she continued to teasingly suck while her hand stroked what wasn’t in her mouth. She flicked her tongue over the head before opening her jaw a little more, his fingers tightening in her hair as she slowly took more of his length into her mouth. Her head bobbed, one of her hands gripping onto his hip as she slurped around his cock, relishing the way he responded so eagerly to her. Loved how hard he was for her, enjoyed the feeling of his hot cock in her mouth, almost heady on the power she had over him in that moment. She lost track of time, focused on pleasuring him as her head moved back and forth, his heavy breathing and the faint sound of rushing water echoing in her ears. Sam’s voice was strained, quiet when he spoke, “H-Hey… You can stop now–don’t have to go all the way–”

He broke off with a gasp as Carrie only took his cock even deeper, humming around his length and sending pleasurable vibrations to it that made him groan. Sam struggled against the urge to thrust into her warm, inviting mouth. Both of her hands gripped onto his hips now, pulling him closer as though urging him to use her mouth as he wished, lips still wrapped firmly around his cock as she sucked. His legs were tense, almost straining with the effort to keep himself upright despite the way his knees felt oddly shaky, his breath escaping him in faster pants as though he couldn’t get enough air. Sam grit his teeth, bowing his head forward as he could feel himself nearing his climax, unconsciously pulling a bit at her hair as his hips rolled forward to meet the heat of her wet mouth. He let out a choked groan, a raspy whisper telling her to wait because he was _right there_ on the peak–but she didn’t pull back, seemingly determined to push him over the edge with her mouth. Her nails pressed into his hips as she pulled him closer, the sound of her soft hums and slurps filling the air as Sam finally reached his release with a strained cry of her name. Carrie continued to suck around his cock, swallowing until there was nothing left, letting out an almost pleased sigh as she pulled away to grin cheekily up at him. Sam took a moment to regain his breath, cheeks still flushed as he stared down at her, looking a little dazed.

“You’re welcome!” Carrie said with a small laugh, her eyes alight with delight and a smug smile on her face. Sam blinked once, twice, before something seemed to flash within his emerald gaze and for a moment, Carrie was airborne again and the world seemed to blur. Her vision swam back into focus as she adjusted to her new position of having been placed back on the tree stump, the incubus now kneeling between her legs with his hands keeping her thighs apart. Sam had used his supernatural speed to switch their positions and was now staring at her with a determined glint in his eyes, and her gaze flickered down to watch the way his tongue wet his lower lip before he inched closer to her sex while his index fingers curled under the hem of her panties.

“This alright?” he asked, voice husky and his gaze heated, but he made no further movements as he waited for her to tell him whether or not she wanted to continue, if she was comfortable. If she _consented_. His worry warmed her heart.

“Y-Yeah, but… you really don’t have to?” Her gaze shifted downward as she gave a him an almost self-deprecating little shrug. “I've honestly never had an orgasm before, so…”

“But does it still feel good?” Carrie met his eyes again and her breath caught at how he was looking at her, absentmindedly noticing the way his thumbs had begun to rub circles into her inner thighs. She swallowed, before nodding a bit slowly in response to his question, and apparently that was all Sam needed before he tugged her panties off with a burst of speed that made it appear as though they had disappeared–though the soft thump she heard as they fell to the ground gave away what had actually happened to them. His hands found her thighs once more, wasting no time as he spread her wet folds and almost tentatively laved his tongue against her wet sex. Carrie nearly believed he was _nervous_ , but the thought quickly left her mind as he licked faster, the tip of his tongue swirling around her clit before he sucked lightly around the nub. She fell back onto the tree stump, leaning back on her elbows as her body tensed up, hands clenching into fists against the wood. 

Her head tipped back with a soft whimper, teeth digging into her lower lip as Sam continued to eat her out, his hands easily maneuvering her legs so that they rested on his shoulders. Carrie couldn’t help the way the heels of her feet dug into his back, letting out a soft moan of his name as his hands found her hips again and pulled her closer, his tongue and mouth never stopping their motions against her sex. Each strong lick had her gasping breathlessly, her fingers threading through his hair as she laid back, unconsciously pulling at the soft brown locks and rolling her hips to meet the next motion of his warm tongue. As he focused on her clit with his mouth, flicking his tongue and wrapping his lips around it, one of his hands slipped down towards her sex and a finger teased her opening. Sam gently slipped his finger inside of her, her own natural wetness making it easier for him as he shallowly thrusted in and out. When he met little resistance, he slid another finger in, using both to stretch her out as he scissored them within her wet sex.

Carrie’s hands moved up to grip onto his horns, squirming and panting as pleasure washed over her from the way his mouth was wrapped around her clit while his fingers thrusted into her. Sam hadn’t let up in the slightest, tongue moving insistently against her as it circled her clit and his fingers quickly moving inside of her and she couldn’t _take_ it. It all felt amazing, pleased sighs and soft whimpers escaping her, but it grew to be _too much_. Carrie could feel the way her body was trembling, everything feeling excessively sensitive and hot, tears prickling in her eyes at the near painful buildup of pleasure that had nowhere to escape to, no way to release itself without Sam just stopping entirely. As the world began to ring in her ears, loud static taking over her senses and fraying her nerves, she registered the way pleas had begun to fall from her lips. “Please, please, _please_!”

What was she begging him for, exactly? She couldn’t focus, couldn’t think, just needed Sam–needed him so desperately and wanted and _yearned_ for–! Sam pulled back a bit, meeting her gaze as his eyes blazed gold and she couldn’t hold back her loud moan at the intense burst of white-hot heat in her core. Over the haze of pleasure in her mind, she was able to recognize that Sam had used his enthrallment on her as heat swelled and swirled within her. And she was right _there_ , so infuriatingly _close_ to reaching her peak but it was just out of her reach. She tugged a bit at his horns, making him look back up at her as his fingers stilled.

“Just _fuck_ me, Sam, _please_!” Her pleas shocked him, mouth falling open with a choked inhale, eyes wide and almost hazy with lust. His fingers twitched inside her before he pulled them out, the supernatural gold of his gaze making her breath hitch. Sam shifted so her legs fell from his shoulders and she instead wrapped them around his waist and squeezed, pulling him closer so that the head of his cock brushed against her entrance. His hands rested on the wood of the tree stump near her waist, and Carrie reached upward to wrap her arms around his neck. 

Her legs tightened and _pulled_ , and as he rolled his hips forward _finally_ his cock slid inside of her. Carrie squeezed her arms around his neck, arching her back with a soft sigh as she adjusted to the feeling of being completely _filled_ by him. Sam’s head bowed down, letting out a groan at the sensation of her wet heat surrounding him, his teeth digging into his lower lip for a moment as his gaze flickered up to meet her eyes. And then he pulled back only to rock his hips forward once again, slowly building up a pace. The heat simmering in her core threatening to explode only grew hotter, pushing furiously against whatever was holding it back as Sam’s thrusts came faster–rougher as though he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of her. Sheens of sweat covered their bodies as they continued to move together, their pants and moans filling the air as well as the resounding smack of their hips meeting again and again. 

With the power of his enthrallment, the buildup of pleasure within her was the strongest it had ever been and she could just feel it bubbling as his cock brushed against that spot inside of her that pulled moans from her lips, her muscles tense as white spots began to cover her vision. Carrie tipped her head back with a loud cry as finally, _finally_ her orgasm washed over her and it was as if everything around her disappeared as she sunk under the waves of pleasure–she broke apart under him, her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as her limbs tightened around him. She distantly noted the hot pool of energy leaving her and moving towards him, a pull that left her floating as her body slowly uncoiled and relaxed with a soft sigh from her lips. She blinked her eyes back open blearily, unable to suppress her shiver as she felt him roll his hips again and his hard cock twitched inside of her, his fierce gold gaze meeting hers again and taking her breath away.

“ _I’m not done with you yet_ ,” he growled, the demonic vibration in his voice making her tremble. She whimpered at the heat already beginning to rekindle in her core, squirming as she wrapped her legs around him again.

Her arms tightened around his neck and she pulled his head closer, leaning up so she could whisper seductively into his ear, “Better hurry up then, we’ve only got all night.”

* * *

Carrie knew she must look like such a mess, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She could feel the flushed heat in her cheeks, knew her eyes were probably glazed over, and she didn’t even want to know what her hair looked like since she could already tell it was catching on everything around her. Her chest was still heaving, body still wracked with faint tremors, but a satisfied smile remained on her face. Sam was helping her get back into her clothes, his own already back in place with the help of his glamor spell. Smart demon. When Carrie was finally clothed, he helped her up onto her unsteady legs, easily lifting her up bridal style to carry her away from the glade. She snuggled closer to his chest, hugging her red shawl to her as she let out pleased sigh, enjoying the breeze as he walked them down the trail back to her car.

“Guess there really is a first time for everything,” she murmured with warm contentment. Nothing like an incubus to solve whatever had prevented her from reaching an orgasm until now. Despite her proximity to him with her arms wrapped around his neck, she was so lightheaded that it took a bit of concentration to aim her kiss at the column of his throat. “You’re my hero.”

He exhaled with a hum, and she felt his chest vibrate with the sound. “‘Hero,’ huh? Not bad considering I’ve never done that before.”

It took a moment for that to sink in. “Wait, what, never?” she asked, but he refused to answer, staring straight ahead as he carried her through the trees. She tilted her head backward to eye his expression and despite his lack of response, he couldn’t hide the red color blooming on his cheeks, even in the dim moonlight.

A virgin incubus? What were the odds? The stubborn blush spreading to his ears made her chuckle, and her arms squeezed around him in a makeshift hug as her head flopped over to rest against his shoulder again. “Oh man, I ruined you. Guess you’re gonna be stuck with me now.”


	12. Chapter 12

When Sam first realized that Kary wasn’t one of his fans, it made him a little grumpy. She had never heard of his internet persona Aomaris, or watched his let’s plays or any of the other videos on his channel. She said that those let’s plays just weren’t “her style,” though of course her friends had all heard of him and raved about his videos.  


Of all fucking things, they met because he went on a fanfic reading binge one day after playing a game for his channel and really digging two of the characters together. The fic author who wrote the most for that pairing (and, in his opinion, was the best writer), was Marilith_Grl, and he wrote a review on an alt account that wasn’t tied to Aomaris in any way lest his followers give him shit for shipping characters. It was just a short one letting her know how much he really liked her writing. She responded with a short, sweet message of her own… and then dedicated her next fanfic with that pairing to him, saying that he had inspired her to write.

They traded messages on Archive Of Our Own for a bit before transitioning to Skype. The first time they did an audio call he had been worried that she might recognize his voice, but apparently she had never seen a single one of his videos, despite him having over six million subscribers. He had tried to bring it up nonchalantly, and was sure she’d figure him out, but she just said she didn’t really like most of the games he played. Most of her friends watched his videos though so she had heard about them by proxy. In a way he was disappointed, but it also meant that he could hide that famous part of his life a little longer, which reassured him at least a little. There was no end to the hordes of gold diggers on the internet.

The first video call they had involved a lot of blushing, but damn did she look cute. She kept tucking her hair behind her ear and then pulling it free again, the silver streak at the front catching the light each time she did it. She commented on how clear his voice sounded, a result of his recording setup that made his heart nearly stop at the prospect of being found out, but it never came up again so she apparently didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in him having “nice” equipment. He didn’t volunteer the several thousand dollar price tag that came with it.

Kary was a senior at Carnegie Mellon University, studying linguistics and several languages at once. He stayed pretty vague with what he did for a living when she asked, describing it as video compiling and editing, which allowed him to work from home. She wasn’t the type to press him for details, though she did encourage him to vent about his work if he ever wanted. He had a feeling complaining to her about Youtube comments would be way too petty, though.

Their Skype calls became more frequent, to the point that sometimes they left the call running even when they were doing things like browsing the internet or cooking. Kary loved bringing her laptop into the kitchen with her and setting it up so he had a nice view of her bustling around. His favorite was when she baked cookies during a call with him before shyly asking him for his address if he was okay with sharing it, and a couple days later, those exact cookies arrived at his door. 

When he got the chance to return the favor, he pounced on it. She sent him an email typed from her phone apologizing and saying that her laptop had died, and she didn’t have the money to have it repaired for a while. Sam had a couple spare laptops lying around from giveaway winners who had never claimed their prizes, so he grabbed the nicest one and shipped it overnight to her apartment, courtesy of the return address he had kept from the box of cookies. 

The next day she called him on Skype as soon as she had set up the new laptop, and watching her in higher definition from its webcam made it all worth it. She kept promising to pay him back, to send him something in return, but he brushed it all off. Instead, he made sending her things his new favorite hobby. When she was sick, he had a service deliver groceries to her door. Long day at work? He had Italian sent to her apartment, because pasta was better than pizza (and more than most college students could afford). He gifted her games on Steam (he had enough free codes to cover half his damn state anyway), and even sent treats and toys meant for her pet cat Noryn.

They began dating almost accidentally; Sam had been musing out loud during one of their calls, and asked her bluntly if she was with anyone before his brain caught up and realized what he had said. She had immediately blushed and ducked her head to hide behind her hair, but before he could stumble over some kind of backtracking excuse, she told him that she wasn’t, and had actually been wondering the same thing about him. It took about ten minutes of shy stuttering and looking anywhere but at their cameras, but eventually they managed to agree on the idea that dating each other sounded kind of nice. Luckily, it was only a little while after that that Sam managed to say something stupid that made her throw a fit, and just like that, things were back to normal.

Visiting her in person was his next goal. He wanted to time it just right, so she wouldn’t have to worry about juggling classes or her part time job while he was there. When he found out she was staying in her apartment for spring break, he jumped on the chance and told her he was sending her something special that would keep her company so she shouldn’t schedule anything if she could help it during that week. Matthew teased him endlessly for it when he found out (and threw out some surprisingly hilarious “special package” puns) but Sam couldn’t bring himself to care. 

During the entire flight and taxi ride to her apartment, he had fought over figuring out the first thing he would say. Sure, he was putting too much emphasis on it, but he knew she’d be speechless in surprise (she always got that way whenever he sent her something) and he knew he’d need to say something to help break her out of it. However, when he finally arrived at her door and she answered, looking up at him in complete shock, the first thing out of his mouth was, “Holy shit, you’re tiny.”

Choked little breaths escaped her mouth as she stammered, “Ah… uh… I’m, sorry??”

“Shit, no, that’s not what I meant, I mean, you’re cute– _it’s_ cute, that you’re short.” He groaned and combed his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I fucked it up. Uh, hi.”

She started laughing and threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him backward. Apparently he hadn’t fucked up too much, thank goodness, though she refused to move so he ending up having to physically lift her off of the ground to get them both back into her apartment.

It was basically one of the best weeks of his life. He had set up a queue of videos to upload to his channel while he was gone so he ignored everything, messages, replies, emails, _everything_ , except for her. He already liked her, knew so much about her, but being with her in person made him fall even deeper in love with her.

She didn’t even care when he finally told her what his “day job” was. He had sat down on her couch and pulled her into his lap as he queued up one of his videos from his channel, and she had teased him as it loaded, calling him a “fanboy.” It took about fifteen seconds for her to realize that the voice coming out of the speakers belonged to the guy behind her, and he was so glad he waited until he saw her in person to tell her because her blushing, embarrassed pout was priceless.

Unfortunately the week slowly came to an end, and Kary insisted on accompanying Sam on the train ride back to the airport so she could be with him as long as possible. She had just stepped out into the hallway outside her apartment when Sam asked her to wait because he forgot something, and he quickly slipped back inside to place a box on her dining room table before darting out to join her so that she didn’t see it. It wasn’t much, just a green jade heart pendant on a necklace. He had wanted to get her something more, but wasn’t really sure what she would like. Besides, he didn’t know her ring size. Not that he wanted to marry her _right now_ , but it might be good to know for future information. Maybe next time, he promised himself. 

When he left the apartment and closed the door, she held out her hand and dropped a key into his. Kary stumbled over herself a bit, trying to explain that she didn’t expect him to visit often since a plane ride was involved, but he was welcome at her place anytime, and he shut her up with a kiss. 

The train ride was surprisingly quiet but they held each other's’ hands the entire way, wanting to soak up as much contact as possible. They stalled outside the airport security line until he absolutely had to go in order to make his flight. Since the line was slow moving, he watched her head outside and turn back toward the train station before finally returning his attention to making sure he had his plane ticket ready to go.

He texted her a couple times at the gate, but he was surprised when she didn’t answer. He brushed it off, figuring that her train was just heading underground and she didn’t have any reception. Once he landed, he texted her again but she didn’t respond. She still hadn’t by the time he made it home, and his calls went straight to voicemail.

Two days later, there was still no word from her, and anyone he knew who also knew her didn’t live anywhere near her city. He made the decision to fly back out and check on her, because Google wasn’t helping and he had to know if she was all right.

When he arrived at her apartment and let himself in with his key, he was greeted by Noryn meowing furiously at him. The lights were all off, so he stumbled to turn them on and noticed that her cat food dish was completely empty, so he headed for the kitchen where he knew the cat food was. Once the little furball got something to eat, her paws nearly knocking the bowl out of his hands before he could even set it down, he looked up and stared in confusion at the box he had left on the dining room table. It was completely untouched. Everything was exactly as it had been when he left, like she had never come back. 

Furious googling on his phone brought up an article he had missed somehow before, barely a footnote in her city’s local paper: “Hit and run collision between auto and pedestrian” “life threatening injuries” “girl’s identity not immediately available” “on life support.” He didn’t want to believe it, wanted to write it off as a coincidence, but the timing fit; she would have walked right by that intersection around that time when heading back to the train station. He looked away from his phone, and walked through the apartment in an unbelieving daze.

He stepped into the bedroom and stared at the bed; the sheets were disheveled just like they had been when he had left. He could still make out where her legs had laid– _everything still smelled like her_ – and he had been about to reach out and touch the soft sheets, as if by doing so he could touch her, when the memories hit him. After that, nothing he did mattered anymore.   



	13. Chapter 13

Carrie was sitting on a set of metal steps inside of the warehouse she had been tasked with evaluating, trying to answer questions from the two police officers who were interviewing her. Her eyes, however, were inevitably drawn to the three squatters who were being handcuffed and read their Miranda rights. The detectives had already asked her what had happened, but they made her go over it again: she had been evaluating the building and specifically was trying to inspect the freight elevator when the three men jumped out and attacked her. Yes, she had a permit to do so. Yes, the building was supposed to be vacant. Yes, she had called out upon entering the premises to see if anyone was present. No, they had not responded or alerted her to their presence in any way before attacking her. No, she wasn’t sure who had called in the disturbance, especially since the warehouse was in an industrial neighborhood and she highly doubted there were any passerby who had happened to hear the commotion (though she was deeply grateful for whoever had heard the fight and called it in to 911). Yes, she recognized those three men. Yes, the men currently in handcuffs were the men that had attacked her.  


The three men were led off to be questioned back at the police station, and when the officers opened the large warehouse door that opened onto the street, they let in someone else wearing a police uniform who moved inside with heavy, purposeful strides. Sam.

 _Shit_. She lowered her head and averted her eyes before she could meet his gaze. She had been immensely grateful that the police had responded to the anonymous call so quickly, and doubly appreciative that Sam hadn’t been the one to show up. She had been hoping to tell him about the incident after the fact once she had had a chance to calm down. No such luck, apparently.

“Hey,” Sam said as he got closer, nodding to the two detectives taking notes in front of Carrie. “Heard the 10-35 call, is everything okay here?”

The detective who had introduced himself to her as Victor nodded. “Yeah, got the shitheads in custody, and she’s not too bad off considering she got jumped by three guys all bigger than she is. She’s refusing medical treatment though, looks like your stubborn streak rubbed off on her.”

Apparently word had gotten around the police station that Carrie was Sam’s girlfriend. The detectives hadn’t brought it up to her before now, but they clearly had already made the connection. She could feel Sam’s eyes on her but she continued to look off to the side. Her thoughts were still a jumble, skin covered in goosebumps both from the chill of the warehouse and the adrenaline that was still spiking in her blood and dulling the pain, and she tried to focus on something, anything. Her architectural report was just about complete, at least. She had started on the upper floors and worked her way down, and the elevator had been the last thing she had needed to check.

She distantly noted that one the detectives, she wasn’t sure which, told Sam, “Anderson, take your lunch. Or the day, whatever you need.”

Her mind immediately returned to her architectural report. She grimly noted that the freight elevator would need to be inspected by an elevator specialist; one of the morons had jammed the emergency brake in place so she wasn’t sure if it was still operational.

“Carrie.” She heard Sam’s murmur but continued to stubbornly look away, sustaining her childish reaction until his hand reached over to gently touch her cheek. It was the barest touch, he probably didn’t want to prod at the bruise forming on her cheekbone, but it was all that was needed to make her sigh in defeat. Her eyes finally swept over the warehouse floor and she noted that the detectives had left while her focus was elsewhere, leaving her and Sam alone in the open, empty space. 

Sighing again, the heavy breath turning into a choked cough, she closed her eyes and brought a spell to mind. “ _Utcumque silentium ruinam_ ,” she chanted softly, the hum of a tractor trailer rumbling by the street outside dwindling to nothing as the silencing spell settled around them and gave them privacy. 

Carrie raised her eyes in slow degrees, finally taking in Sam’s frowning expression before she glanced away again and spoke up to explain. “It was some random person outside who heard the commotion and called in the fight in the first place. Figured you didn’t want them to hear you yell at me in case they’d make another call.”

“Why would I yell at you?”

“You’re mad, aren’t you.” Her words came out as almost as an accusation, not a question, chin jutting out in defiance even as she still worked to avoid looking at him.

“I want to know what happened, and I want the asswipes that did this to get what they deserve!” She watched him shift his weight from the corner of her eye before he groaned and continued. “Ugh. More than that, I wanted to make sure you’re alright. Are you?”

She shrugged with her right shoulder; her left side still hurt if she shifted it too much. “I’ll be okay. I’ll work on it when I get home, see if I still have enough energy to focus on healing. If not, I’ll take some painkillers and do it tomorrow.”

He reached out again, fingers curling along her jaw to try and direct her face. She finally acquiesced to his prodding, turning her face toward him but still lowering her gaze to focus on his chest.

“I’m gonna rip them apart for doing this to you.” The threat was spoken softly, his lips lining the phrase with violence. It made her shiver, the tremors amplified by the chills wracking her skin. 

“You can’t, Sam. They’re human.” That was why she had been relieved to find out Sam hadn’t been among the responding officers. She was afraid of what he might have done to those scumbags if he had been the one to pull them off of her. 

“They still did this to you for no fucking reason!” There was the anger. The way he said it made her flinch, eyes squeezing shut, and he immediately breathed out a heavy sigh. His fingers trailed down her cheeks to her neck, her shoulders, apparently trying to hunt down her injuries by touch. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer. “Why didn’t you fight back? I know for a fact a couple of regular assholes like this couldn’t take you, even if they got the drop on you.”

Even though he had spoken softly, those words hurt her more than the outright anger had. They brought to mind sneers from her past, haunting phrases that cut deep. “ _What’s wrong with you? Why’d you fuck it up, Carrie? I thought you were better than that._ ” 

Her abdomen tensed and she opened her eyes, staring straight ahead without focusing as she hissed a response through gritted teeth. “Since it seems like you forget this fact a lot, I’ll go ahead and remind you that _I am human_. On top of that, other humans _cannot_ know about magic and the other worlds. If they saw me try anything I’d have to try to wipe their memories, and I don’t think I could do it. I’ve always been shit at mind altering spells and if I screwed up, they’d either remember something they shouldn’t or lose memories they should have been able to keep.”

“Fuck them, who cares? They’re the ones who attacked you!” 

Finally her eyes snapped up to his and she stood, her feet on the step above him so she was able to look straight at him. She leaned forward, her hand grabbing the railing in a white knuckled grip to keep her balance. “Do you think the angels care?! They follow the laws to the letter and that is all. One screw up, no matter how much anyone ‘deserves’ it, and I’ll be forced into a true baptism. Everything about me would be wiped clean! I’d be good as dead, do you understand that?!”

Her arm was trembling with the force it took to keep her upright, and the pulse in the knee one of the men had stepped on was throbbing. That one short burst of anger had taken most of her energy, so she allowed herself to nearly fall back down onto the step she had been sitting on. Sam’s hands shot forward and caught her under the arms before she hit the metal grating however, and he let her down slowly. 

A weary breath passed through her lips and she slumped to the side, grudgingly letting herself be held up by Sam. “When it comes to the rules of the worlds, humans have to play by different rules than demons do. We’re supposed to be naive and innocent, after all.” Her eyes met his again, absorbing the frustrated worry she saw in his gaze. She knew that her anger was misplaced; Sam hadn’t done anything wrong. Her tone softened as she continued. “I’ll get some rest tonight, see if I have enough energy to take care of myself tomorrow. I don’t think it’s serious enough for a hospital at least.” 

Suddenly she felt a breeze pass over her skin as she moved through the air before warmth bloomed against one side of her body, and she realized that Sam had lifted her into his arms, tucking her against his chest, and was heading for the exit. “Ah– Sam–?” 

“I’m taking you home. Some of that kitchen witchy stuff of yours can probably get you back on your feet quicker, right?” He continued forward until he reached the oversized warehouse door, but then he paused and looked down at her, his green eyes intense as his gaze pierced her to her core. “Aomaris. …My true name is Aomaris. Demons get to play by different rules, right? Next time, call me, doesn’t matter when. I’ll take care of it.”

His true name filled her mind as her eyes widened. Demons shared their true names only with close familial ties or those who were bound by marriage. She knew that demons didn’t inherently understand love, only passion and the desire to continue their lineage, so it struck her that this was probably Sam’s own way of telling her that he loved her, in the only way he understood.

Her right hand rose slowly, fingers tentatively brushing his cheek before they curled around his shoulder and she pulled herself closer to him, burying her face in his neck. She didn’t have words for this. His arms tightened around her before he pushed his way out of the warehouse, only letting go of her so that he could seat her in his cruiser, buckle her in and get her home safe.   



	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up, rape (as mentioned in the warning tag) is heavily implied in the latter part of this chapter.

Sam knew he was racing against the clock, and it was all that goddamn fairy’s fault. Midnight had snuck out with Kary again to go shopping of all fucking things, but she’d lost sight of the boss on the street and ended up calling James’s true name in a panic when she couldn’t find her. By the time James had summoned Sam and they picked up the trail, he was nearly panicking himself.  


They had found a bystander who had caught everything. She had heard a bit of the conversation between a woman that sounded like Kary from her description and several other people who seemed to be missionaries, something about witches and the devil’s work. They had then hauled her off into a van, and luckily the girl caught the name of the church on the vehicle’s quarter panel.

James took care of blocking the woman’s memories as Midnight headed for the nearest parked car and used her magic to get it running for them. James, however, insisted on driving, and Midnight demanded that she help him navigate, so Sam was stuck breathing harshly in the backseat, waiting for them to arrive wherever the fuck they had taken Kary to. He had told Michaela that he would keep an eye on her. He had promised himself that he would keep her safe. _Fucking hell_.

Finally they pulled up to some bumfuck church out in the middle of nowhere, and once Sam saw the van parked in the circular drive in front of the church that matched the witness’s description, he flew out of the car before James had even begun to brake.

He threw open the front door of the church and took in the scene before him quickly. Gathered humans. Shouts of “Witch!” and “Abomination!” called out above venomous murmurs. Kary bound and gagged, hanging by her wrists at the head of the congregation. Blood trickling from several open wounds on her body. Stones flying toward her, hitting her form with sickening thuds.

He didn’t wait any longer before charging the crowd. He wasn’t supposed to show his power in front of humans, wasn’t supposed to hurt or kill them, but they were _hurting her_. They looked up before he reached them; had he yelled? He didn’t notice. He just needed them to leave her the fuck alone.

For the most part they scattered, which was really what he was after because he knew he couldn’t actually kill them without angels coming after him. However, he caught the sound of James shouting from behind him and by the time his head shot up to look at Kary, it was too late. One of the congregational witch hunters had moved to hide behind Kary, and Sam watched in horror as he viciously stabbed a knife into her throat and gave the weapon a strong sideways pull. 

Sam rushed to her as the human took off running, but he didn’t care about that piece of filth. He tore at the rope at her wrists that was holding her up off of the floor and wrapped his arms around her to help her down, but he could see the light fading from her eyes even before she reached the ground. His hand was on her neck, trying in vain to hold it together, but everything between them was coated in sticky crimson, and her eyes met his through a thick sheen of tears. A final gurgled breath escaped from her and he felt her body shift as it moved for the last time. Even the high pitched scream Sam heard from somewhere behind him, probably from Midnight, wouldn’t pull him away from staring into Kary’s eyes, trying to will her back into _looking_ at him.

Magic could nearly perform miracles, but it couldn’t bring back the dead. His unlocked memories were proof of that, and now, they were all that was left of her.

* * *

“Mine! You can’t have it!!” Carrie spun out of the way as she clung to the oversized bag of flour in her arms. She was helping out at the Golden Crown Cafe late in the evening; the cafe was closed so it was just her and Matthew in the back, readying the dough that would be rising overnight for some of the bread for the next day. Sam was there too, but he had begun arguing with his younger brother almost as soon as he had arrived so Carrie had ordered him out of the kitchen. To soften the blow, she had made him a sandwich and brought it out to him as he sat in the cafe proper so he could at least have something to eat while she finished up with Matthew.

That is, if she ever freaking finished the last batch of dough. Matthew had said something about Sam being whipped and she had threatened to leave early before the dough was finished, and to make good on her threat, she had grabbed the overly-large twenty pound bag of flour that needed to go into the industrial sized mixer and danced just out of Matthew’s reach as he chased her around the kitchen.

For the most part, she was just surprised that she wasn’t tripping over anything as she scooted around the counters as fast as she could, despite whacking her hips and elbows on a corner or three. However, Matthew threw out an arm to hook around her neck and keep her from getting away, and the pressure of him yanking her backward sent her reeling more than just falling would have. 

Carrie’s grip on the bag of flour instinctively loosened as her arms went slack and the bag fell to the floor with a loud, heavy thud. Matthew’s elbow wasn’t hooked tightly around her neck but her throat felt as if it were closing up all the same, working to pull air into her lungs through ragged gasps. Her skin was crawling, pressurized darkness pressing in around her field of vision and her heart squeezed tightly in her chest as her pulse raced, _she had to get away_ –

She stumbled forward and pushed away from his arm, her toes catching the edge of the bag of flour at her feet. As she fell her fingers brushed the floor but she pushed herself forward, the counters and floor of the kitchen racing past her vision in a blur as she ran out, out, _outgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout_. She pushed through the hinged door that led to the main space of the cafe and she nearly heaved as she continued to force herself forward despite her uneven, stumbling gait. Air whistled past her lips as she tried to forcefully pull it into her lungs with little success.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure ahead of her rise to their feet, and she stuck out a foot for a moment to skitter to a stop and move to avoid until she heard a low murmur come from them–him–Sam. _Sam_. That recognition, that thin thread of safety he offered was enough for her to change course and head directly to him, tripping over the foot she had awkwardly placed a moment before in an attempt to reach him faster. She plowed into him unabashedly, arms pulled tight around his waist, hands fisted tightly behind him as her body shook with violent tremors. She buried her forehead in his chest, gulping down breaths, fighting her reactions, fighting _everything_ , but her brain was full of static and her heart was pumping hard and she couldn’t even hear the words Sam was speaking over the roaring in her ears. 

Matthew spoke up from somewhere behind her, his voice soft and apprehensive, and guilt blanketed her with a sick realization of how her reaction must have looked to him. She bowed her head, trying to suck in enough breath past her tensed diaphragm to explain. When she tried to form words, she hissed, tripping over the “s” sound that she tried to push past her teeth. “S-S-S-Sorry, sorry, sorry sorry sorrysorry sorry s-sorry,” she repeated like a mantra, clipped inhales fueling her words, trying to speak loud enough to be heard from her position pressed up against Sam. She wanted to say more, explain that he hadn’t done anything wrong, but that word was the only half-formed thought she could cling to in her fractured mind. 

Her pulse was pounding a thick rhythm that she could feel in her muscles, in her temples, behind her eyes, but finally she was distracted by a hand physically pulling her chin upward so that her eyes met Sam’s intense golden gaze. The raging rush in her veins quickly settled into a quiet calm, and the warmth of his enthrallment smoothed the edges of the chill that had blanketed her skin. Her lips parted as she pulled in a deep, full breath, trying to infuse her lungs with the oxygen they desperately needed.

The gold quickly faded from his irises as they returned to their normal green, but his eyes remained focused on hers as he worriedly watched her expression. “You alright?” he asked her slowly, as if he had said it several times already. Had she missed it? She thought he had said something but her brain hadn’t processed the words. 

Carrie blinked, surprised by the vague stinging on her cheeks; had she been crying? _Christ, what a mess_. “I, uh… I think so. I’m…” She lowered her gaze again, mortification washing over her but this time she was able to form her thoughts a little more readily into threads. She didn’t turn around, too embarrassed to even look at Matthew, but directed her words to him. “Matthew, I am so, so sorry, I didn’t mean… You didn’t do anything wrong, I just… There’s…” She paused for breath again, knowing that she didn’t have the words to explain right then. Not well enough to be a worthwhile explanation, anyway, and he deserved at least that much. _Way to freak out at him over **nothing**!_

Matthew saved her from scrounging for words by speaking up himself. “Carrie, don’t worry about it, as long as you’re okay! I’m just, ah, I’ll finish up in the kitchen if that’s okay, I mean we were almost done anyway, so I can take care of the rest.”

Now that the adrenaline that had kept her moving had settled out of her veins thanks to Sam’s enthrallment, she felt heavy exhaustion sink into her bones that weighed her down. She had been full of energy just minutes before, but after that spike of panic, her mind had other ideas. She nodded in response to Matthew’s offer, her head tilting down until her forehead was resting on Sam’s chest again as she listened to the younger brother’s footsteps retreat back into the kitchen. Her fingers were throbbing with a dull ache, and she only then realized that they were still clenched tightly into fists at Sam’s back. She released them, stretching her fingers out before she brought them back to press against the fabric of his shirt. 

Now that her breath had evened out, she expanded her periphery and took in more of her surroundings. The streetlights were on outside the cafe. Sam’s hands were warm against her back, sliding slowly along her spine to reassure her. One of them rose to her neck and buried itself in her hair as it cradled the back of her head. Being surrounded by him was just what she needed right now, and she closed her eyes as she silently tightened her arms around him in thanks.

Moments or minutes passed, she wasn’t sure how long. Her mind was focused on processing his warmth around her and his scent filling her lungs and letting the last of her frantic thoughts fade. Finally she tilted her head up again, catching Sam’s hooded, serious gaze.

“Hey. Want me to get you home?” he asked quietly. 

Carrie nodded, but paused when she glanced over her shoulder at the kitchen door behind her. “Should I say something to Matthew? I mean–”

Sam cut her off, calling out, “Hey Matthew! We’re heading home, you cool?” When Matthew responded by calling out for them to get home safe, Sam nodded. “There, good to go. Come on, doofus.”

The ride home was quiet, the lull of the engine as Sam drove nearly pulling her into a doze. When he pulled into her parking lot, he came over to her side of the car as she was standing and took her hand to help pull her upright. His fingers remained entwined with hers as they both took their time heading into her apartment.

Carrie took charge once they were inside and pulled him along into her bedroom. She kicked off her shoes in the direction of her closet before sitting on the bed and pulling him down to sit next to her. Pulling a deep breath into her lungs, she stared down at their hands, her fingers tracing lines along the edge of his knuckles and palm. “Can… I mean, I want to explain, but it’s hard for me to talk about it. Can I, um, show you instead?”

She glanced up from under her eyebrows, his soft green gaze giving her the strength to tilt her head up as he nodded. Tightening her grip on his hands, she leaned closer to him to press her forehead against his, then closed her eyes and spoke a soft incantation to project her thoughts.

_It opened with a rush of forcefulness and anger. She had been arguing with **him**. Blood rising, backpedaling, on the defensive, why was he attacking her with his words? She tried to steer back to the original issue but that didn’t matter any more, there was only verbal assault from him, why was he saying these things? He was verbally striking weak points over and over and over until she screamed at him to stop, she didn’t want to hear anymore, he was crowding her and yelling and she wanted him to stop but he wouldn’t– _

_Hands seized around her throat, tightening forcefully, and the argument was instantly forgotten. Any words coming out of his mouth were gibberish because she couldn’t breathe, he was exhaling puffs of breath on her face but all that air was **wasted** , she couldn’t take in any of it as hard as she tried, pulse pounding against his hands, wrapped so tight, why was he hurting her, her lungs wanted to burst– _

_It took so long, **so long** to fade away, her heartbeat ticking like the second hand on a clock, pounding so fast but time was going so slowly– she was staring straight at him but she couldn’t remember anything about his expression, was he smiling? Was he angry? Pawing at his hands, trying to scratch, to kick but his body caged her in, trapped her against the bed, darkness pressing tightly against her vision and she wanted to just die already she **couldn’t take it** –_

_Morning broke. Sore neck, tight throat, swallowing was like choking on her tongue, she was in his room but she was alone, naked, used, what had he done, he had choked her and–?_

_Sitting up, clothes on the floor, some of them shredded, did he do that? Clutching cloth to her chest, lurching to her feet, stumbling to the door, opening it to be greeted with so much **laughter** , the pack of them smiling, grinning, not his roommates anymore, they were **predators.**  “Damn man, you did a number on her, look at that face!” “Sleep well, chica?” “How’s that walk of shame going, Carrie?” Lunging for the bathroom, slamming the door, standing under the blistering hot spray of the shower and washing away the pain and remnants and humiliation. Later on when she saw him again came the quiet, fading echoes of empty apologies, veiled blame, future promises, false regret._

As the memory murmurs faded away, she opened her eyes and shivered, the energy she had spent for the spell to share the vision leaving her cold. Speaking about what happened and forming the words to express what she had gone through would have been difficult, and using a vision to convey the event to him was much easier. However, showing him the images and emotions left her more vulnerable than any spoken discussion could have accomplished. Reliving those moments certainly wasn’t helping her either, and her skin was so tight it felt like it was crawling up her scalp. 

Her lips parted as she tried to think of something to say to him to help bring her back to the present, but she was shocked into silence at the warm feeling that washed over her, soothing her skin and relaxing her mind. Her gaze flicked upward to Sam’s; his eyes were still green but she could tell he was using a fraction of his enthrallment to ground her. It felt as if each of those horrible memories was wrapped in a cocoon and pushed gently aside so that he could fill her mind with comforting warmth, so much so that it melted every anxious feeling until she was left only with tranquil calm. He didn’t obliterate any of those mental images; she knew he could make her forget, lock them away, but he let her keep them and focused on comforting her instead.

Tears prickled as they formed in the corners of her eyes, her gaze still locked with his. “I love you,” she whispered, the words slipping past her lips without conscious thought. It wasn’t because of the enthrallment or anything beyond the fact that she loved him and she needed to speak the words.

As soon as she said them, however, her thoughts ground to a halt and she blinked wide. “I-I’m sorry, you don’t have to– I mean, I do love you, but I know demons are–”

Sam leaned in, his lips pressing against her cheeks to kiss away her tears. When he pulled away slightly and licked his lips, she exhaled heavily in the closest imitation to a laugh she could muster. His hand rose to her cheek, fingers moving along her jaw, tracing the shell of her ear, brushing against her neck before he leaned forward to press his forehead to hers again. She hummed in contentment, his hand tangled in her hair, but his slow, measured murmur of, “I… _love_ … you…” caught her completely by surprise. 

He watched her carefully as he continued, eyes flicking between hers. “That’s… what this is, isn’t it? I wanna kill that asshole for what he did to you, but more than that, I want… I want you to be okay Carrie, more than anything.” 

A demon, in love. She gave a weak chuckle as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself into his lap and nearly knocking him over. “I’m okay, because you’re here.” 

He leaned back on the bed, pulling her along with him so she ended up sprawled over his chest. “Damn. Never did learn a spell to control time, but now I’m wishing there was one so that I could go back and keep him from doing that. Wanna protect you, not just now but before I met you too.”

Her breath hitched, and that small intake of air filled her lungs with his warm scent. She laid her head on his chest, tracing the lines of his body with her eyes before following with her fingers, unable to keep from touching him. “It’s okay, humans haven’t figured out time machine technology either. When we do, I’ll let you know.”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate putting this down here, but I want to kind of head off any “ughhh rape as backstory is so dumb” thoughts. I totally get where that’s coming from, but this was originally written entirely for myself, as therapy. I just wanted to point that out for anyone rolling their eyes, it wasn’t my intent to use it as a cheap plot device to make her backstory “deep.” <3
> 
> I also need to add that the last part of this fic was heavily inspired by [this lovely imagine fic by Ziocho](http://ziochodraws.tumblr.com/post/126398966758/imagine-crawling-into-bed-next-to-sam)! I loved it so much that I just had to have something like it in my story, though hers is infinitely better <3


	15. Chapter 15

Another long day of packing boxes. Carrie had been stuffing everything she owned into every box she had managed to scrounge over the past couple weeks, but luckily all that work had paid off and this was the last night she was spending in her apartment. Almost all of her things had been moved over to Sam’s place, which was in a much nicer neighborhood than hers, thank goodness. Not to mention his apartment was mostly bare, so she got to basically have the run of the place with his blessing. “I don’t know shit about where shit goes,” had been his exact words. **  
**

She had a small suitcase she had been progressively living out of more and more as she had hauled her possessions from her apartment to his, and now that piece of luggage, her mattress, and just a couple more boxes of odds and ends were all that was left. Tomorrow morning she would drop her key off with her landlord, who could be more accurately described as a slumlord. At least he had been hands off for the most part, for both better and worse.

Carrie wandered into the kitchen with the only drinking glass in the apartment, filling it up with more water and downing half of it before wandering into the space that had been her living room. She was about to head to the bedroom when she got a text, and then another, and then another. She hurriedly put the water glass down on the windowsill for lack of any other surface to place it on and pulled out her phone, seeing that the barrage of texts was from K.

K: Hey, do you have any whiskers?  
K: Specifically cat whiskers.  
K: Not like, on a cat right now! Like shed ones?  
K: There’s this spell I want to do but I don’t have any!  
K: Not that it’s urgent or anything  
K: Well, it kind of is?  
Carrie: Sorry, all of my reagents are packed up right now! How urgent is it?  
K: I guess it’s not that bad! It’s just that I have everything else lined up.  
K: Where’s all your stuff? Are you moving??

She continued texting K for a while, late into the evening. K had been ecstatic (and smug as hell) when she had found out that Carrie and Sam were dating, and her comments about shipping them together were borderline intolerable. Still, she was a surprisingly competent witch despite her seemingly scatterbrained nature, and not a bad friend either. By the time their conversation finished, Carrie was already lying down on her mattress, so it was easy enough for her to strip down, plug her phone into the charger snaking across her floor, and crawl under the blankets.

Hours later, her sleep was violently interrupted with the slightly muffled sound of crashing glass from the living room. Her eyes shot open, heart immediately pumping violently, and her ears picked up a soft, muttered curse from a deep voice she didn’t recognize. She shot upright on her mattress but hesitated in getting fully out of bed, wondering if she should take care of this herself or if she should bother Sam to help her. She wasn’t dressed, had no spell components, and her purse was across the apartment by the front door, so she was at a disadvantage. The sound of a slight creak in the floorboards spurred her into action; with an internal apology to her grandmother for using dark magic, Carrie exhaled softly and allowed herself to sink into the floor, becoming part of the shadows in her apartment. The muted monotony of the shadow plane greeted her, and she silently slipped through the crack under her bedroom door and into the living room.

 _Intruder_. A lone figure wearing all black, a man by her guess, was hunched over as he slowly approached her bedroom door from his entry point into her apartment: one of her living room windows. The drinking glass she had absently placed on its sill earlier lay shattered on the ground. Thank God for that.  
  
First things first: incapacitating him. He seemed focused enough on her bedroom door that she took the risk of slipping out of the shadow plane when she had positioned herself behind him. Heart hammering in her chest, she spoke a soft incantation that would put him to sleep. She nearly dove to the side out of reflex when he began to turn around at the sound of her voice, but he never finished turning, simply tipping to the side and hitting her floor with a boneless thud as he slipped into unconsciousness. Something fell out of his hands when he fell, sliding away across the floor with a metallic skitter.  
  
Next: the window. She didn’t hear anything outside beyond a car running at the end of the block, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. She waved it shut with a hand and then quickly recited another spell, setting a wall of force over the bay of windows to keep anyone else out.  
  
She watched the windows for a brief moment, taking the time to pull a deep breath of air into her lungs and cautiously count the seconds to be sure no one would follow, and then she returned her attention to her blissfully unaware intruder. Daring to risk a little light, she allowed a soft glowing orb to form in her hands as she took in the scene. When she saw what had fallen from his grip…  
  
Her mind violently rejected what she saw, refusing to cooperate, and instead forced her to call out, “Aomaris!”  
  
Carrie winced at the flash of bright light that illuminated the room after she had summoned him, but for the most part she was fighting to control the tightening in her chest. Even as Sam quickly took in the scene of her apartment, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. He made some crack about not needing him since she had taken care of everything already before quickly kneeling by the unconscious figure to handcuff him roughly most likely out of spite, until his gaze followed the direction hers had gone in.

In the dim light from the orb in her hand, the gun on the floor made the intruder’s intent painfully obvious. The click and feedback of Sam’s police radio barely reached her because she was putting together the picture. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of guns (hell, if her father could see her now, he’d probably smack her upside the head) but her brain was still putting together pieces of what had happened and the addition of a weapon into the picture sent a wave of dread settling over her. Before she could take in anything else, Sam stepped into her field of view. She chewed on the inside of her lip when she straightened up, pulling a hand to her chest unconsciously as she met his serious gaze.

“Might want to get dressed,” he said softly, almost in a whisper. He reached out to cover her hand with his, the soft orb of light extinguishing under his palm. “There’s a squad car on the way.”  


Over the next hour, the full picture of what had happened began to emerge. The window itself had been opened with nothing more than a long handled screwdriver, and Carrie was cursing herself for having removed the protective wards on the windows before she had finished moving out. Living on the ground floor of a building in a shitty neighborhood, those wards had been the only things keeping her apartment from being broken into probably on a regular basis. They just created an illusion so that the gaze of passersby tended to slide over the windows of her apartment and not notice them; simple, but very effective. She had thought one night without them would be fine so she had packed everything away, but she should have known better. 

What continued to chill her blood was that the intruder’s gun had been loaded with a round in the chamber, and he had been heading directly for her room. Her purse had been sitting in plain sight in the living room, but he had been moving in the opposite direction. That made it painfully obvious that this wasn’t a smash and grab, not to mention any burglar with sense wouldn’t break into anywhere with a weapon, because that would just escalate the charges against them from misdemeanor to felony if they were caught. Breaking into her apartment with a loaded weapon generally meant one thing: they had entered with the intent to kill someone. If she hadn’t woken up, if that glass hadn’t been placed precisely on the windowsill where he had decided to break in, she could easily be dead right now.

That fact had her skin crawling with uneasiness. She was shivering enough that Sam had pulled a blanket off of her mattress to drape across her shoulders, but the extra warmth wasn’t sinking in. Her mind was stuck on that thought, chewing on it, mulling over it, so much so that the questions that she was asked by the officers blurred together and she couldn’t recall her responses. She drifted until Sam grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door of her apartment, and she pulled back to get him to pause. “Where are we going?”

He exhaled heavily and turned back toward her, his hand squeezing hers. “I’m taking you home with me, doofus. My partner brought my cruiser over and I loaded up the rest of your boxes, we can deal with the mattress tomorrow. Come on.”

His place. Right. It was still the middle of the night, and she should probably go back to sleep. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to actually fall asleep at this point, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do. She was surprised to see the last of the boxes she had packed now resting in the back seat of the police car as she sat in the passenger seat. When had Sam taken those out of her apartment? Had she really spaced out that much?

She realized she was still frowning when Sam softly spoke her name, and when she looked over at him in the driver’s seat, he leaned toward her and pressed a kiss to her forehead before starting the car and backing out of her apartment’s parking lot. It was enough to ease her frown at least, and she settled back into the seat with a sigh.   



	16. Chapter 16

Aomaris was in deep shit. He was running down the streets of the village outside the castle, trying to outpace the angry merchant whose cart he had accidentally tipped over in his rush to get to his destination. Unfortunately the merchant hadn’t accepted his quick apology and had shouted at him, accusing him of being a thief. Some of the village guards had heard and they were now chasing him down, which was exactly what he didn’t need right now. He was late meeting his brothers and he didn’t have time to stop and placate the asshole and explain to them he was a goddamn knight in the castle that protected this damn town.  


For years now he and his brothers had been visiting the traveling storyteller whenever she came into town, usually once a month or so. It wasn’t always on the same day, but the innkeeper of the tavern she told her stories in always marked the occasion when she would be entertaining that night by lighting candles in the upper windows. Izroul had been the first to discover her when he had been thirteen, and ever since then he kept a watchful eye on the inn’s windows from the castle and always told his brothers when she was going to perform that night. Though he always attended, most of his brothers tried to go with him as well, when their duties didn’t conflict. 

The storyteller always arrived at the tavern in the evening, the hood of her cloak masking her face as she entered the tavern, but she always pulled it back immediately and had a bright smile for those that gathered to hear her stories. She usually took a spot by the back corner, settled into a chair and began quietly, though no one dared talk over her. 

Her voice always seemed to hum when it rose and fell as she told tales of ancient kingdoms, mysterious murders, wolves and wilds and the wills of kings. Often she would slip in a verse or two of a song, usually in the common language, but sometimes it was in a different language with a burr that hummed as it trembled on her tongue. Aomaris always insisted that he went for Izroul’s sake, but there was something about her voice, and the way it grew over the years as she became older. It wasn’t the most beautiful he had heard, but something about it wrapped him in warmth. 

And now he was _late_. Ser Nathaniel had been yapping at him, distracting him with some implausible story bragging about something or other, when he’d heard the chimes and realized how late it was. That had begun his race through the town’s streets, and his collision with that damnable merchant, and now the town guards were on him; of course he was in a hurry and out of uniform so the guards wouldn’t recognize him, but if he could just lose them this wouldn’t be a problem. He recognized a familiar building and darted inside, slamming the door behind him and hoping that he could hide long enough to get to his destination, which was– 

He realized too late that the reason that the building was familiar was because it _was_ his destination. He heard the soft echo of a sung note hanging in the air, and when he looked up, he saw the eyes of the gathered crowd as well as the storyteller herself fully focused on him. _Shit_. 

She blinked at him in surprise before quickly pulling up a stool next to hers and motioning him over by waving her hand. He moved over to sit down next to her and unconsciously lifted his eyes toward the staring crowd, Izroul and Zecaeru among the onlookers, before the door flew open and the two town guards stepped into the tavern. The storyteller waved at the pair and spoke up so that her voice carried across the common room to them. “I apologize for the trouble my messenger may have caused, gentlemen. I sent him to retrieve an item for me with haste.”

Though the pair seemed confused, they took her words at face value and nodded before leaving. Aomaris was wondering if she had mistaken him for someone else before he happened to glance at her and catch her small wink before she returned her attention to the gathered crowd. “Please excuse the interruption. Let me start again, with the song that Anna sang in lament after her love had disappeared when attempting to find the land across the sea.” She inhaled deeply, pausing only a moment before she began to sing. 

He was sitting so close to her that he began to notice new little details as he watched her sing. She was smaller than he expected; she had always been alone in front of the group so he rarely had a reference for her height, but now he noticed that she was almost a full head shorter than he. Her eyes swept over the crowd, and though her expression was serene, he watched the pull at the corner of her eyes when her voice soared in a long, mournful arc. 

When the song was finished she continued her tale of Anna searching the world over for her lost love, until finally she described the girl wearing through three pairs of iron shoes before she found him and the two were finally reunited. “I sent my messenger here to find the gift that Anna gave to me when I crossed her path many years later and she told me her story. She presented me with a very precious artifact: an iron shoe that she had worn to nothing.” She turned to Aomaris, whispered at him to give her his hands, and when he did, she held out her own as if taking something from him, and then presented her empty hands to the audience. “And… here it is.”

The applause from the audience made her smile, and Aomaris couldn’t stop watching her. Even after she had finished for the night, bowed, and most of the crowd had dispersed, his eyes were still trained on her every movement. Finally she turned to him, her forehead wrinkling as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry for pulling you into my story, I wasn’t sure how else to help. Are you all right? Did something happen with the guards?”

His brothers approached before he could explain, so naturally he had to tell not only the storyteller but the both of them as well about his run-in with the merchant. Zecaeru didn’t even try to hide his grin, and Aomaris knew he was going to hear some kind of dig about it later.

The storyteller introduced herself as Kary, and though she normally disappeared quickly after her sessions were finished, she stayed to speak with them. He was surprised that she had recognized him, which was the reason she had offered to help him so readily. She admitted that over the past several years she had come to expect at least some of the brothers to be there, and was always sad when they couldn’t make it; she even held onto the best stories for sessions when she recognized them in the audience. 

Before long however, an old soldier Aomaris didn’t recognize approached them and said quietly, “Princess, please, it’s past time for us to leave.”

The three brothers stared in surprise, eyes darting to each other before returning to her. She was a princess? Kary turned to her guard slowly, giving him an exasperated glare before reassuring him that she would be finished shortly. She asked the brothers to please keep quiet about her identity; she preferred to remain anonymous when she told stories so that she didn’t attract attention. Zecaeru informed her that they were guards in the castle, so whenever she ever paid their Princess Iridessa a diplomatic visit, they might see her, and she smiled in response and told them that she would look for them the next time she did so. She bowed her head at Aomaris, curtsying as she thanked him for being her special assistant for the evening, before she pulled her cloak’s hood over her head and hid her eyes before heading for the door, her guard at her heels.

Princess Kary’s visits to the castle of the kingdom of Midnight increased in frequency, and Aomaris unconsciously trained himself to watch for any incoming visitors who arrived flying her country’s banner. Though at first she spent time with all of the brothers, more and more she spent time with Aomaris himself when they could find the time. She had been taken aback at first when she learned that he was the son of the Dark Lord, but she was quick to reassure him that she saw none of his father’s evil in him and wouldn’t judge him for his sire’s misdeeds. When her old guard was finally set to retire, she petitioned both her parents and Iridessa’s for the chance to make Aomaris her personal knight. Though he knew he would miss his brothers, she visited often enough that he couldn’t say no when she finally gained everyone’s approval. Of course, he didn’t realize what a handful she would be; having to assist her in sneaking out to tell stories to her townspeople was something he hadn’t actually anticipated. There were plenty of other duties that he hadn’t expected as well, helping her pack for instance.

“So why are we going to this ‘peace talk’ anyway? It’s not like there’s going to be a war. It’s just more political shit anyway, right?” 

Aomaris was grudgingly opening trunks as she stuffed them with clothing and sundries. Her maids had long ago allowed her to pack on her own, mostly because Kary liked to bring common clothing and other items so that she was able to sneak out to tell stories and she didn’t want her maids to go running to her mother about her antics. 

“We’re going because Prince Saero’s family rarely opens their home to visitors, and I have to make an appearance as a representative of my kingdom,” Kary explained patiently. “There’s also a rumor that he and Ezaeur may become engaged, so I’ve also got to keep my ears out for that. It may just be gossip, but if it happens, my mother will want to know.”

She reached out and cupped her hand to his cheek, and the irritable expression on his face faded to a softened grin. He couldn’t help but melt when she touched him; her soft skin, her beautiful voice, that gentle but almost conspiratorial smile that she showed only to him, he loved it all. “Not only that, but we’ll be able to see your brothers again. It’ll be a wonderful trip, trust me.”

They couldn’t have foreseen the Dark Lord’s vile treachery, the dark magics he used to tear apart Prince Saero and Ezaeur’s engagement as well as slaughter her family, or the ensuing murder of the gathered princesses, the assumed traitors behind the tragedy. Civil war was all but assured after the bloody summit, though after the massacre, war meant nothing to Aomaris. His every thought was focused on how he had lost Kary once more, his memories a constant reminder that this wasn’t even the first time he had failed her.

* * *

Carrie sighed heavily as she turned her car from the back alley shortcut onto the street that her bank was on and saw flashing red, white and blue lights. Great. She had meant to get to the bank earlier, had even told Sam she was making a quick stop there before heading home, but K had pestered her into swinging by the Pink Lady and distracted her with pastries. Now, it looked like the street was closed off thanks to some kind of police issue. She was about to turn around when she realized the officer standing next to the police car partially blocking the road was Robert, Sam’s partner. She had talked to him on occasion, so she felt comfortable pulling into a parking lot on the street (mostly empty, so hopefully she wouldn’t get immediately towed) and getting out of her car to walk over and ask him what was up.

He seemed genuinely surprised to see her, and was about to answer her question when a loud siren came screaming up the street behind her. She turned to see an ambulance approaching, the blaring signal making her wince at the sharp pain in her ears, and Robert waved the ambulance by. After it had gone far enough ahead that she could hear again, he explained that there was a hostage situation at the bank, and that Sam had insisted on being part of the infiltration team. He glanced back over his shoulder then turned back to her, leaning in close to explain quietly that he had heard over the radio that Sam had been shot multiple times and that that ambulance had been called for him. 

Carrie only vaguely registered the rest of what he said as her mind raced far ahead. He had been shot? How badly? She had seen him shrug off serious injuries before, but he usually needed energy right after to help fuel the healing process. Was he faking it to play along with being human, or was he really that injured?

Once Robert mentioned the hospital that he knew the ambulance would be heading to, she thanked him quickly and turned to dash back to her car. He shouted after her to follow traffic laws and not chase the ambulance, but she only distantly noted his words. She reached for her phone and scrolled through her contacts quickly to call Damien as she ran. 

“Damien,” she breathed as soon as she heard him pick up while sliding into the front seat of her car and jamming her keys into the ignition. “Sam’s heading to Legacy Hospital. I don’t know how bad it is, I know he’s been shot, and I need help. I can get there and give him energy but if he’s lost his glamor spell, if the doctors suspect anything… Can you help? I’m sorry to ask but you’d be able to read their minds and see if…”

His low voice was calm when he responded, though she could tell by the air rushing past the phone that he was hurrying. “Yes, I’ll head out now. I’ll let James and Matthew know that’s why I’m leaving. Can you wait for me by the entrance? I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

Carrie drove to the hospital on autopilot, shocking herself out of her hazy thoughts when she shifted the car into park out of habit and realized she was already in the hospital’s parking garage. Hurrying to the front of the ER entrance, she thankfully only had to wait a few minutes before she noticed not only Damien but James hurrying toward her as well. She couldn’t blame James for wanting to come; worrying was in her blood, she understood. She pulled the door open for them both and quickly headed inside.

When the front desk nurse tried to stop them, James used a hint of his enthrallment to convince her to share the location of the operating room Sam was in and to let them through. Flanked by the two incubi, Carrie made her way through the hospital and into the operating wing, walking as fast as she dared to avoid attracting attention. James and Damien stared down everyone they passed, she assumed using their powers to seem as if they belonged. She was grateful to them; she couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat or her quickened breath as she tried to reach Sam as quickly as possible, but she knew she would have to thank them later. 

As they reached the operating room they were searching for and threw open the door, she left the bewildered surgeon and his team to the incubus brothers and ran directly to Sam. The amount of blood splattered across his body was staggering but she breathed a sharp sigh of relief when she saw that he was still holding onto his glamor spell. The indignant shouts and confusion around her faded to the back of her mind as her hand cupped his cheek and pulled his face toward hers, frowning in empathy at the grimace of pain etched onto his features.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s me, I’ve got you,” she murmured before pressing her lips to his, ignoring the coppery taste of the blood in his mouth and gathering her energy from every appendage and sending it to him as quickly as she could. Her knees nearly buckled at the dizziness that almost immediately consumed her, not used to losing so much energy so quickly, but she kept pushing, letting the chilling weakness settle into her bones. Normally she associated that feeling with danger, casting too many spells, leaving herself vulnerable, but for him, she’d do it a thousand times over.

Something brushed against the back of her head, a hand maybe, but she was too tired to open her eyes. She hoped it was Sam, hoped that her energy was enough, hoped that he was alright. The nervous, jittery haze that had begun to haunt her as soon as Robert had told her the news was fading; she knew how to operate under pressure, it was one of the things she prided herself on, but with her energy quickly running out, the barriers she built up to get things done were crumbling. She was a trembling wreck draped across Sam’s body, the energy rush flowing through her lips slowing to a trickle as the last of it left her body. Her hand fell from his cheek, fingers numb, and she pitched forward, a warm arm around her keeping her from slipping to the floor as darkness enveloped her mind. 

* * *

When the veil of sleep lifted and her eyes drifted open, Carrie sluggishly took in her surroundings. Sam’s scent. Their bed in his apartment. Light struggling to penetrate the curtains over the window. Curled up against Sam’s side, head resting on his chest. His arm around her waist, thumb occasionally drifting to and fro over the curve above her hips. She felt his thumb move for an indefinite amount of time, content in being surrounded by his warmth, until her mind reminded her that she should probably check him over for scars. 

She mulled over the question of whether demons were left with scars after using energy for healing when she inhaled sharply and pushed herself up, the awkward motion almost making her fall back down onto his chest again as she whipped her head up to look up at Sam. “Are you okay??”

His eyes went wide at her quick jump from asleep to startled, but he squeezed the arm around her waist and gave her a soft smirk. “Good morning to you too, doofus.”

When she didn’t react and continued to watch him worriedly, he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks to you. James and Damien told me what happened, thanks for storming the hospital for me.”

Carrie let out a heavy sigh of relief, then shuffled her body around and pulled herself onto his chest so she could look up at him more comfortably. “Wanted to make sure you didn’t go full demon form on them, then we’d have a real mess to clean up.” Her lips curled up in a little self-deprecating smile. “Sorry for passing out on you, you kind of scared me and I wanted to make sure you got enough energy. How did you explain everything?”

His hand drifted up from her waist, lazily making its way up her spine until it came forward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “James did most of the talking, and Damien got me a hospital gown thing so I didn’t look like so much of a wreck. Gonna stay home a few days so that my ‘recovery’ doesn’t look too crazy to my coworkers, so you’ve got me all to yourself for a while.”

She closed her eyes as his fingers lingered behind her ear, and deep breaths helped slow her heartbeat to a more manageable rate. “I’m just so glad I ran into Robert. The ambulance for you arrived right after I did, and he explained what happened to you.” Her gaze slid to the side, contemplating if she wanted to know what happened before curiosity won out and her eyes returned to his. “What happened in the bank, anyway? I know you’re fast enough to dodge bullets. Were there too many witnesses?”

Sam’s gaze dropped away from hers before he shut his eyes and exhaled heavily. Several moments passed before he spoke, his voice quiet and low. “You had said that you were going to the bank this morning, so when the call came in, I thought you were there. They had all the hostages facing the wall and one of the girls in there had long hair like yours, so I just assumed it was you. I knew I couldn’t use my powers with everyone watching, but one of them put a gun to her head and I thought she was you, and… shit.”

Carrie tilted her head to press a kiss to his chest before she looked back up and rested her chin on that spot. “I got lucky, K was pestering me to stop by the Pink Lady before it got too late in the day and…” She trailed off, not realizing until just then the coincidence that K had inadvertently saved her life again. That is, if it even _was_ a coincidence. It had occurred to her before, but this… this was a bit much. Not that she wasn’t grateful, but if there was something more going on, she wanted to know about it. Not to mention that she’d love to thank K in person if she truly was behind keeping her alive.

Sam was watching her, waiting for her to continue, and she decided against voicing her suspicion to him. Knowing Sam, he’d probably call K up right then and demand to know what was going on, and she didn’t want to voice her suspicions and look like a lunatic just yet. “Yeah, just lucky, I guess. You’re okay I hope? Any wounds or scars left over?”

“Nah, I’m all healed up, just needed energy to fix everything. Heh, and you’re full of it, doofus.”

She pouted at him, mostly because she knew he expected it. “Having an attractive boyfriend does help with that. You’re welcome, you dork.”


	17. Chapter 17

The strip club’s lights reflecting off of the white streaks in the woman’s hair was the first thing Sam noticed about her. The second thing he noticed was that after his dance number was done and he headed to the back with his haul of tips, he habitually did his count before stashing it with the rest from the night and immediately saw that she had been tipping him in _twenties_. He nearly dropped the entire pile then, idly wondering what the hell she did for a living that she had that much cash to throw away.  


He knew he had to go talk her; it was part of the job, especially if she had that kind of money. When he walked onto the floor from the back room, he spotted her almost immediately. She seemed completely comfortable lying back on a couch in the club, though on his way over to her, she seemed to get distracted by Damien and she got up off the couch to head over to him. Sam altered his path to move toward the bar instead; money was just part of the job, and it all ended up in the same place (counted by James and then handed over to their asshole of a father) so to him, it was as worthless as scraps of paper. As long as she was handing that kind of money over to one of the brothers, hell, he didn’t care. 

“If you don’t watch where you put that, I’m going to rip it off.” The low, feminine warning was just loud enough to be heard over the music, and when it caught his attention, he turned to watch just in time as the woman physically removed another girl’s hand from Damien’s ass. Great, one of those grabby bitches. She must have made some kind of snide remark too, because the woman with white streaks in her hair gave the girl a little indulgent smile that was just a little terrifying before wrenching the girl’s arm behind her back and marching her toward the exit. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Now that he was down from the stage he could see how surprisingly short she was, but she hauled that grabby customer off like she was nothing. They headed out to the parking lot briefly before the woman came back inside alone, giving Damien a little wave when she caught his eye, and then she headed to the bar and sidled up to Sam. 

She seemed to know the drill. She ordered a drink from Matthew for herself and asked to have one for Sam as well (non-alcoholic since he was working), introduced herself as Kary, and he was grateful that she skipped the customary amount of small talk that was normally expected of him to ask directly about private dances. He was just trying to keep his eyes from falling out of head when he spotted the wad of bills in her wallet when she paid for their drinks. Hell, for the money she flashed, she could have the VIP room all night.

He led her to the back room and went over the rules briefly (contact was allowed, she could take off her shirt if she wanted), and when she smiled and nodded silently, he eased himself into his routine. Thank goodness he knew it by heart, because he was having a hard time concentrating around her. 

It wasn’t the money that had him distracted. It was her demeanor, the way she noted his performance with interest but watched his face most of all, her eyes meeting his as her lips slowly curved into a satisfied grin. Even as he towered over her, the confidence that rolled off of her made him uneasy, like she had all the control in the world and could take him down at any moment. It made him want to shiver, but fuck if it didn’t make him hard, too. He breathed her in; he expected her scent to be coated with some kind of expensive, exotic perfume, but all he could smell on her was a faint whiff of sweat and something warm, almost a little sweet. 

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her cold fingers warming quickly against his hot skin, and his eyes traced the lines of her wrists and any other bare skin he could spot, looking for a sign of a fairy wing tattoo. If she had that much money to throw around, maybe she was part of the Fairy Mafia, the gang that might be able to help them break away from their scumbag drug lord father. Rumors abound about that group; the name certainly seemed silly, until someone made the mistake to underestimate those girls. Kary’s demeanor certainly fit with what he expected from a gang member. He was quickly distracted from his search for a tattoo, however, when her hands wandered toward the band of the briefs and pulled them out of the way with a quick tug, his cock springing free. The way her eyes focused so intently on it made his mouth instantly go dry. _Holy shit_.

When her hand wrapped around him and softly tugged, his mind went almost completely blank. He hadn’t been touched like this by anyone, not since his father demanded that his sons keep it in their pants “or else,” and the foreign contact alone was making his balls want to burst. His father’s threats sprung to mind but shit she knew what she was doing, hand pulling with just the right amount of pressure and he wanted to fucking come right then–

“Don’t…” The word passed his lips unwillingly. He knew he shouldn’t but goddamn, did he want it. 

“Don’t?” Her hand slowed, and she tilted her head just enough to meet his gaze. “ I won’t make you…” She leaned forward then, pressing a kiss to his hip, _God, her mouth was right there, **fuck**_ – 

“Shit, d-don’t stop…” He didn’t care about how he sounded, what his father would think, what his brothers would say, none of it. The only thing left in his mind was the throaty chuckle from the woman who had him by the balls, almost literally. 

Even that thought was blown away at the feeling of warm lips wrapping around the head of his cock and giving him a sweet pulling suck, almost like a kiss. His knees nearly buckled and he pitched forward, his hands catching the back of the couch to keep himself upright. 

The world spun and suddenly he was crashing back onto the couch, Kary sinking down between his legs as she readjusted her grip on his length. “Can’t have you falling over,” she purred with smug satisfaction before licking a slow, wet stripe from the base to the tip. His head fell back at the sensation, and he just barely caught a glimpse of her shrugging off her jacket before taking him into her mouth again. 

She went slow at first, keeping her mouth at the tip and her hand unmoving at the base. She was _teasing_ him dammit, but his frustrated moans must have been enough to placate her because she quickly picked up the pace and set a hard rhythm that had him bucking off of the couch. His hands reached for her head, fingers threading into her hair as he felt her bob up and down along his length. His hips bucked again and she moved with him, God, he wanted nothing more than to fuck her mouth and she was _letting_ him. 

He didn’t want to come, not yet, but the moment he tried to slow down she pressed his hips down to the couch and deepthroated him, swallowing him whole right down to the base and the wet heat surrounding him made him explode. He came in her mouth as he arched backward, hands falling away before tightening around the couch cushions until his knuckles were white. He had tried to bite back his shout but he didn’t know how successful he was; all he could see or feel was static.

Sam didn’t know how long it took his brain to reboot, but eventually he tipped his head downward and registered the smug, satisfied grin on Kary’s face, almost like she was ready for more. She licked her lips and pulled his briefs back into place gently; he had almost expected her to snap the elastic, but the way she touched him so delicately when he was so fucking sensitive made his heart lurch unexpectedly. 

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips again and she rocked back onto her heels to stand, stretching her arms up over her head before giving him another smile and a tip of her fingers. “Thanks for the VIP treatment. See you around~” she said as she turned to leave, and his eyes drifted down to her hips and he watched them sway as she walked, not gracefully, but powerfully, like every step grounded her.

The only thing he remembered about the rest of his shift was that when the club closed and Matthew asked if anyone knew whose jacket had been left in the VIP room, Sam snatched it away from him without a word. Not that he knew how to get it back to her, but fuck if he’d let anyone else have it.

* * *

Sam didn’t find out until later that Kary actually was part of the Fairy Mafia. He still hadn’t found the tattoo on her, but by the time she told him, he pretty much expected her to be. However, he had been blown away to find out she was the gang’s infamous boss.

Word had come from James that the Fairy Mafia had bought out the club for a private party for the outrageous sum of seventy thousand dollars for a single night. That was half of what their father expected them to fork over at the end of every month, not to mention rent and the other costs of running the business, and all for just for one night’s work.

Fae had come in person to deliver the check, her signature red pumps clicking ominously against the floor of their club as she headed to James’s makeshift office in the back. Sam had almost thought she was in charge, but Erik rolled his eyes at the suggestion, saying she was obviously just a messenger girl. Damien, however, had taken issue with his phrasing. The boys were nervous as the evening of the “event” approached, their worries and apprehension leaking into conversations with one another and even into their phone conversations with their favorite fairies. After the girls had introduced themselves as part of the gang and gotten to know a bit of the boys’ predicament, they had slipped them a phone unconnected to their business to share in case of emergencies. Unfortunately (or fortunately), its intended use fell by the wayside as the boys fought over it to have a chance to talk to (which evolved into having phone sex with) their favorite fairy.

Once the night of the event came around, the brothers stood around nervously, waiting for the girls to arrive. James ended up in a bit of a cleaning fit, and was wiping down the bar counter for the hundredth time when the door opened and in walked a slew of girls, all chatting happily. Most of them had their arms full as they entered, coming in and walking past the boys with little friendly waves as they headed for the center of the club and unburdened their goods around some of the couches in the center space.

“Hey Zio, you got the set up, right?”

“Yeah, as long as Diva brought all the cables!”

“Of course I did! There were, like, three, right?”

“Where you do you want the screen, Boss?”

“Boss, is this how you want the couches arranged?” 

“How’s the picture look, Boss?”

It took the boys some time to realize the girls were rearranging furniture and setting up a screen and projector. Others were unpacking bags of snack foods and 2 liters of soda. Regardless, they all seemed to be referring to one of the others as “Boss,” and it took Sam a while to realize that the one in charge that they were deferring to was Kary. It took a little time for that to sink in: she was the head of the Fairy Mafia. The leader of the group that was powerful enough to hopefully stand up against their father was the woman who had developed a hobby of wrapping her lips around his cock. _He had been jacking off to the hot mouth of a fucking mafia boss._

And she was directing the other girls into setting up a movie night at the club like it was a goddamn slumber party. She turned to look at him, gave him a wink before getting back to supervising the others, and he couldn’t do anything but stare in shock. Eventually the girls finished setting up and invited the boys to join them if they wished, or enjoy having the night off. 

“You… bought out the entire club for the night, just to give us a break, miss?” James asked incredulously. 

Midnight had laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, like we needed the money anyway. You want a break or do you wanna hang out with us?”

The boys ended up staying after changing into ratty but comfortable clothing. Lounging around the club that was their workplace felt strange, but with the girls there to laugh and throw popcorn at the screen with, it was downright surreal. 

Not even a movie night with a cuddly pile of girls could erase the memories of being trapped in the club, however. Kary had been working with an FBI agent to help take down their father and lock the son of a bitch up for good, but when their dad had realized that the Fairy Mafia was hanging around his club, he had told James to get rid of them. Like the stubborn women they were, they still showed up to the club even when the boys had warned them, but the stakes were getting higher and higher.

Kary had stumbled in the back door of their club one night, bruised and barely able to stand, and had asked Matthew for a place to sit just for a few minutes so she could catch her breath before she tried to make it to a safehouse. He had hurried to pull Sam off the floor and told him that they’d cover for him, so Sam headed for Kary and against her protests had carried her up to his room. Once he had laid her down, however, most of the fight left her and she settled for curling up on her side. She fumbled with her cell phone for a moment, her hands trembling as she fought to make them work, before she had choked on a heavy sigh and handed it to him, asking him to send two texts for her: one to someone named Laurel, “three presents for you in the alley behind Rialto Bar,” and one to the “Family” contact group: “Hit’s out, group up, three or more.”

One he had finished, he tossed her phone aside and headed to the bathroom the boys shared above the club and grabbed what first aid supplies they had. Since their father liked to rough him and his brothers up, that meant for better or worse, they had a decent stockpile. When he returned to his room and started working on her injuries (at least the ones that he could see), Kary sat up and still put up a token pouting fuss before letting him work. Her shoulder was cut just over her shoulder blade, and when he asked her if he could take her shirt off, he stumbled when he realized what he had just said. It was enough for her lips to tug into a ghost of a smile though, and she told him to go ahead. 

Sam positioned himself behind her, trying not to get an eyeful because he had a damn job to do (though he had fantasized about her breasts often enough that he had to fight quite the urge to peek). However, he was quickly distracted by the reveal of fairy wings tattooed across the entirety of her back, taking up nearly every inch of skin shoulder to shoulder and right down to the base of her spine. So that’s where her tattoo was. Most of the girls carried their wings on wrists or arms or ankles, or in Zio’s case, just behind her ears. He guessed it made sense for their boss to have the biggest one of them all.

He carefully pulled her shirt away from the knife wound as he lifted the cloth before tossing it to the side and concentrating on cleaning it so that it healed properly. He was so absorbed in the fresh wound that it took him some time to investigate the tattoo on her back, and the myriad of raised scars that were just barely visible under the inked pattern. They intertwined so closely that it was almost difficult to tell them apart, except that he was able to inspect them so closely. He didn’t realize that his fingers were tracing the pattern on her back, over both tattoo and scars, until he noticed that she was hunched forward, head lowered, almost like she was ashamed. 

Sam moved his hands across her back, around her sides and over her stomach to hug her and pull her against him, her back against his chest. He glanced over her shoulder, taking note of the tremors still wracking her hands and he moved one of his up her wrist to investigate. “It’s my fault,” he murmured, voice strained as he admitted his part in her getting hurt. “I pissed off my father. Said something stupid like it shouldn’t matter if your gang was visiting the club, as long as it’s money… “ He sighed, thumb rolling over the back of her knuckles with a feather light tough to keep from putting pressure on the split skin. “He didn’t like that. Told us to get rid of you, keep you out of the club. I didn’t realize he’d put a hit out on you all, too.”

She tried to pull away from him then, but he tensed his arm to keep her right where she was. “Sam, you can’t,” she sighed, still keeping up a token struggle against him. “If he finds me here, he’ll hurt you, and I can’t–” 

“And you wanna try to make it home like this?” he countered. “What if you get jumped again? Our father’s asshole minions never come up here. Probably the safest place in the city for you.”

He lowered his head to her shoulder, eyes open and staring at the inked skin beneath him. “…Stay.”

She stayed.

* * *

Sam understood that Kary was the leader of the mafia. It had scared him at first, but only a little; he knew her, trusted her. The night that his father had beaten the shit out of him and his brothers before leaving the club, however, he saw what being the boss of the Fairy Mafia truly meant. Their father had stormed in like he usually did a few days ago, took over the place with his cronies, shut it down for usual business and had a fucking free for all with drugs and girls, and just before he left, he had made a point to beat into his sons just how much he was in charge. Even Sam couldn’t keep his wrath misdirected from Damien for long, and all five brothers got the brunt of his wrath this time. She and several of the other girls had entered the club not half an hour after their father had left; he assumed they had been watching the place or something. They had eyes everywhere in the damn city.

Kary, Midnight and Onyx had been the three to walk in the front door and they stopped short at the sight of the boys laid out on the couches in the club, nursing their injuries. Kary had stopped and stared, chest rising with a quick intake of breath, before she turned on her heel and headed for the bar, pulling out her phone and tapping quickly before holding it up to her ear. He heard the clinking of ice over her rapid hushed conversation; was she making ice packs for them? Good, he would have done it himself if his ribs weren’t stabbing him every time he tried to move. He was sure that at least one of his brothers was going to end up with a black eye. 

“I don’t give a shit, Julian!” Kary yelled abruptly a few moments later, causing everyone to jump. The deep seated hatred in her voice was unmistakable. “I’m ending it tonight. I’m going to tell you exactly how it’s going to happen, and I’ll even let you have some input, but I’m not leaving them here another fucking night. Do you hear me?”

Her voice quieted down again as she piled a couple ice packs on the bar, and the two other girls hurried over to grab them and deliver them to the boys. Midnight paused in front of James before almost nervously placing one down for him within his arm’s reach and turning toward Damien. Sam almost wanted to snap at her to just make out with him already; he would never understand those two. 

When Kary came out from behind the bar, her hand was still clutching her cell phone and her eyes were on the floor, ticking back and forth rapidly as she approached the boys on the couches. Finally she looked up and spoke, her tone low and matter of fact. “This is going to happen fast so I need everyone to listen very carefully. There’s going to be a police raid in about forty five minutes. Guys, I’m sorry but I need you to move. Go pack up anything and everything that you want to take with you, because you are never fucking coming back here again. Meet up back down here when you’re ready to go. Midnight, please go find the club girls and tell them the same. You’ve all got about ten minutes before the fairies and I need to leave, and I have more phone calls to make.”

She was dialing another number and raising the phone to her ear before the last words of that sentence had even passed her lips. A moment later, it connected and she turned away again to answer, immediately issuing commands as she spoke. “Diva? I need a car switch. Get the Escalade and meet me at the parking lot on Sixteenth and Ash as soon as you can. Lights off when you get there, got it?”

Midnight hurried off to the rooms in the basement where the club girls lived, and Onyx helped haul the boys off of the couches and ushered them toward the steps to their rooms. Sam kept his eyes trained on Kary as he was led away, watching the way she carried herself as she fired off demands into her phone. Short, direct orders. Tense, powerful stance. No hesitation. This was the Boss. 

Once he and his brothers had packed the pathetic few items they actually cared to take with them, they came back down the stairs and Kary outlined the rest of what they needed to know about the plan before taking off with the fairies and the belongings of the brothers and girls of the club.

The plan that she had outlined went flawlessly, down to every detail. The police arrived to raid the club precisely when she had said they would, and the brothers and girls were all hauled to the curb out in the darkness to be arrested while the officers searched the place. The officers in charge of guarding them turned their backs and a blind eye to them, and inside one of the police cars, someone attempted to start the engine but stalled it out before it turned over. That was the signal Kary had told them to wait for; the club residents split and took off, the girls heading south to a parking garage where Fae and Onyx were waiting for them, and the brothers went north toward a parking lot behind a convenience store that was closed and barred for the night. The girl named She was kicked back at a bus stop that they passed on their way to their destination, and she winked and yanked her head toward where they were heading before turning to watch their backs.

In the parking lot was a black Escalade, sitting with its lights off but a bit of exhaust puffing from the back of the car. The rear doors popped open and Zio and Em hopped out, ushering the boys in before piling back in themselves. Kary was in the driver’s seat and took off before they had even finished sitting down. 

“All according to keikaku Boss,” Zio cackled to herself as she clicked together Matthew’s seatbelt before settling down into her own seat.

Em was tapping away at her phone, grinning as she reported that Fae and Onyx had safely acquired Diana and the rest of the girls and were on their way to a safe house. 

Kary nodded, not speaking, and much of the rest of the ride was silent as they took back alleys and shortcuts to cut through the city. Sam idly wondered what kind of safe house she was taking them too, not that it mattered to him. If he never had to see his dickbag father again, he’d be willing to put up with a goddamned cardboard box in an alley. 

As they reached the warehouse district of the city, Kary called over her shoulder for the guys to close their eyes if they were squeamish. Before any of them could gather up the courage to ask what she meant, she flipped the headlights off and jammed the gas, sending the Escalade hurtling down the streets in complete darkness. Most of the streetlights were burned out in the district, and even Sam couldn’t help but grip the armrest tightly, wondering if she really was going to hit something as she sailed past one or two cars that were driving normally with their lights on through the deserted streets. Poor bastards.

The SUV made a couple of turns and cruised down a nondescript ramp into an underground garage, the bright overhead lights that appeared behind the opening garage door blinding them temporarily as she pulled into an arbitrary spot and popped open the car door, followed quickly by the other two girls.

They shepherded the brothers onto a freight elevator that held the large group easily, and as it rose to the next floor where an open floor plan warehouse loft stretched in front of them, Em announced, “Here you go guys, welcome to your new home!”

Still riding the adrenaline high from being raided by the police and then sailing through the streets in the dark, the brothers were content to gape and then wander the space when the girls prompted them to move. James remarked that he was surprised that the girls would bring them into their home, figuring that they would just put them in a safe house. 

“Where’s safer than here with us?” Hikari remarked from her spot on the couch.

Matthew was particularly interested in the oversized kitchen, though Sam didn’t miss the pride evident in Kary’s expression when she showed off the space. It was pretty obvious to him that it was her favorite room in the converted warehouse. However, despite his brothers’ increasing excitement at their gorgeous new home, he watched the boss’s expression fall more and more as the group continued through the warehouse and the lofts scattered around the space.

Once everyone had split up, Sam ended up following Kary up to her room, one of the higher spaces tucked in the back by the fire escape. She moved to the window, the landscape of the city’s industrial district laid out before her, and he briefly wondered if she wished she was looking out over a different view, like from some highrise downtown with the city at her feet.

He stiffly moved to sit on the edge of her bed closest to her, ribs still stabbing him if he moved the wrong way, and it hit him all over again that if this worked out, he’d never have to sleep in his bed in his tiny room above the club again. He frowned, trying to come up with words to explain what was in his head to her. “I… Thank you. …Fuck, I don’t… You don’t know what this means, Kary, to all of us. It’s…”

“Of course I know what this means,” she nearly spat, her harsh tone startling him. “I trapped you here and it’s my fault. I didn’t even ask you or your brothers about it, I just…” She exhaled a bitter, biting, hissing breath, her chest deflating as the air departed her lungs. “Don’t you get it? You can’t leave, unless you go out with several of the fairies in tow. Granted, it’s a nicer place than the club, but I didn’t even ask!”

“Shit, do you think we care? That was hell. Seriously, fucking hell. It was hopeless and we were trapped and there was no fucking way we could have ever gotten out of there alive and we knew it, but you… We’re free because of you, all right? It’s not just about getting us away from the club. It used to be just us against the whole goddamn world, and now, we’ve got our own place to belong, people who care about us. We’ve never had that before.”

Sam’s hand reached forward to wrap around hers, and he gently pulled her back toward him so that she was standing in front of him. His eyes traveled upward to her face, and he frowned at her conflicted expression, not sure how to make her understand. “…Thank you. You’ve done so much for us, I don’t think we can ever repay you.” 

A bit of the tension eased away from her expression, and she pulled her hand away from his so that she could straddle his lap and wrap her arms around his shoulders, her motions deliberate and measured to avoid putting too much pressure on his injuries. With her forehead pressed against his neck she murmured, “It’s not about repaying us. I want– I mean, all of us, we want you and your brothers to be happy. We know what it’s like to be dealt a shitty hand and be expected to just put up with it. I wouldn’t wish it on most people.” She pressed her lips to the skin of his neck before nuzzling back up against him. “Just… be yourself, and be happy, okay? Living well is the best ‘fuck you’ that you can give the world.”

Everything seemed to turn into a happily ever after. The brothers each got their own personal cell phones, more time with the entire fairy gang, and Kary and Fae even worked out a ridiculous “allowance” for them to spend which struck James near speechless. Without the club, the brothers didn’t have anything to focus on except for the girls and having fun just living.

It wasn’t perfect, though. Midnight and James still refused to get too close to each other for no reason that Sam could figure out, Zio and Matthew always seemed to be missing one another, and Sam had asked Kary for lessons on how to cook in an effort to spend more time with her, but instead he discovered she had a deep aversion to knives. It was hard to shake the image of her backing away from him, the blood drained from her face, whites of her eyes visible around her irises as she tonelessly asked him to put the knife back in the drawer. Later she haltingly explained her past, the man named Carter who had “rescued” her from the streets before teaching her about blades and the proper ways to use them on people. He had been the one to carve the scars across her back. He was the reason she had to fight every time she picked up a knife in her own kitchen, why she couldn’t stand the sight of one in someone else’s hand. As much fun as the fairies had together, there was darkness lurking beneath; all of them had their scars.

After a while, they got complacent. Kary had gone out alone in the morning to meet with some business owner, something about intimidating him into behaving, and after being cooped up in the warehouse all day, Midnight had taken the opportunity to take the brothers to the mall to go shopping. She egged them into spending money whenever she could, and it wasn’t lost on Sam that suddenly she and James couldn’t get enough of touching each other. About goddamn time. 

They stayed out until the mall nearly closed, and they were just heading back to the car when Midnight got a text from Kary that simply said, “Get home now.” To be on the safe side, Midnight sped across the city and dropped the brothers off at a safe house away from the warehouse and told them to lay low before she headed for the loft alone. 

Two tense hours passed. Finally Sam’s phone dinged with a message, and he nearly collapsed in relief when he saw it was from Kary. When he opened the message though, he wished that he hadn’t. It was a couple images compiled into one collage: Kary naked, his father over her; a knife buried in her shoulder up to the handle, the blood surrounding the blade a stark contrast to her face sickly white and frozen in fear; some of what looked like his father’s lackeys smiling and posing with her limp form, a needle jammed into her arm. 

He was still staring in disbelief when one last new image popped into the messaging window: Kary’s tattoo stapled to the front door of what looked like the warehouse, blood dripping down the wood grain beneath. It took him several precious moments to process how that could have happened until it finally dawned on him: _they had skinned her alive_. His vision swam and his brothers took his phone away from him just as their own phones began to chime with notifications. He started to tell them, “Don’t–” but his mind was suddenly filled with images of Kary, some he knew, so many he didn’t recognize, _every time he had failed to keep her safe_. Distantly he felt himself sink to his knees, his brain filled with memories he didn’t understand and images he wished he had never seen.   



	18. Chapter 18

This was getting ridiculous. Carrie might have been tempted to laugh at the myriad of coincidental close calls that had been become the norm for her, if only her life wasn’t at stake each time. She had asked K as directly as she dared, but the cafe owner never did more than giggle at her and talk her way around the question until the topic changed. Carrie didn’t know whether she was being mysterious for amusement’s sake or if it was because of something bigger. That left her with one last avenue to try and figure out what was going on: magic.  


Even finding a spell that would be helpful was a tough task in and of itself. She settled on one that would show her what were best described as “fate threads.” Playing around with fate was something she usually avoided at all costs since that was good way to really piss the angels off, but just _viewing_ the ties without attempting to alter them hopefully wouldn’t catch their attention.

Her friend Twila’s shop had most of the reagents she needed, though there were a couple she knew she would need to acquire via the demon black market. Thankfully she had done a favor for a particular family in Chicago so access to the black market, while still dangerous, wasn’t a problem. When she mentioned offhandedly to K that she would be going to one particular place the “vendors” liked to set up shop, K asked her to pick up a couple of spell components from a particular seller before she left. Sure enough, when Carrie had just finished purchasing the goods for K, a fight broke out that quickly escalated into a magical explosion. However, thanks to the vendor’s close proximity to an exit, she managed to get the hell out before she got caught up in the pandemonium.

Once she had everything in order, she took the additional precaution of calling Damien and asking him to meet up with her for assistance with the spell. 

“Are you sure? James knows more about magic than I do.”

“I’m pretty confident that I can cast this on my own, I just want a little back up to be on the safe side. And most of it is mental anyway, so I thought you might be able to help give me perspective on what I see? If you’re not comfortable with it though, that’s totally okay!”

“No, it’s fine, I’d be happy to help!”

That’s how she and Damien found themselves entering Twila’s shop, Moonage Crystals and Herbs. Most humans assumed it was just another New Age shop, though actual spellcasters knew that they also happily provided spell components and books for their use as well. Carrie had called ahead and asked to used the shop’s backroom for the spell just to have a clear, easily prepped space, and the shop owner had told her that she was welcome. Carrie waved at Twila as she came through the shop’s front door, but didn’t miss a blush of recognition spread across the other woman’s cheeks when she saw Damien enter behind her. 

“Do you know each other?” Carrie asked, looking back and forth between the two. 

Damien looked bewildered, eyes wide in confusion, and Twila simply gave him a nervous, complicated smile before answering her question with a light, “Something like that,” and returning her attention to something behind the counter. Carrie looked back to Damien, but he only shook his head, expression still uncertain, so she figured he didn’t want to talk about it and led him back to the shop’s rear room. 

The space was relatively empty, with a cement floor and a simple cabinet in the corner that held a few spell casting knickknacks. Carrie’s favorite was the small bucket of sidewalk chalk, which she pulled out and used to draw a magic circle on the floor. The rest of the spell reagents she needed were pulled out of the void of her purse: silk thread, candles, mirrorglow flower petals. When she had arranged everything as it needed to be, she invited Damien to sit across from her as she settled down cross-legged in the center of the circle. 

She went over a mental checklist of the spell one more time in her mind before closing her eyes and letting the incantation form on her lips. “ _Volo videre consequat. Da mihi in pagina. Ostende mihi fila supinis_.”

The silk thread that she had stretched between her fingers began to warm, and she began to see threads forming in her mind, tangling and stretching out into other directions. Before she could see what direction they were traveling, however, a red haze covered her vision, almost as if someone had blindfolded her with crimson cloth. She could sense that the threads were still present beyond her sight, but she couldn’t make out anything else past the red barrier. One of the threads was bound tightly to her, and as she felt it wrapping around her, she also felt it tighten as a force she couldn’t see behind her began to tug her away. It was a gentle suction at first, then more forceful, as if her spirit was being called away by something, but what was it? She could feel vibrations run through the string that was bound to her, almost if someone was plucking it like an instrument, but the force at her back was growing stronger still, and the pressure was enough that she could feel the air squeezed from her lungs–

“Carrie.” A soft male voice called her attention away from the internal visualization she had been focusing on, and she fought to adjust her perception until the physical touch of the string between her fingers brought her out of the spell. She opened her eyes, gaze adjusting to the light though she couldn’t have been distracted for longer than a few minutes. Damien was watching her carefully, brows furrowed; he had been sitting on his shins when the spell began, but at some point while she had been focused inward he had risen to his knees. He looked nervous, unsure about interrupting her vision.

She twisted the thread between her fingers and quickly snapped it to properly end the spell, then inhaled deeply, still working to counter the effect she had felt in her lungs. She questioned Damien on what he had seen, trying to understand what had happened, but he had experienced the same red concealing shroud that she had. That was enough to worry her; the spell was supposed to only visualize threads, so something like that appearing and disrupting the effect was worrisome. However, the tugging she felt was what scared her the most. It was almost as if something had been trying to suck her out of her body, and she was only kept safe by the thin little thread that had been wound around her, holding her in place. 

The most frustrating part was that even with Damien’s perspective, she wasn’t any closer to determining what was going on, other than it was bigger than she realized. She didn’t know what K’s involvement was, or what she could be doing to either avoid that pulling sensation or just lengthen her lifespan. Any further digging might involve spells that played with destiny, and she wasn’t sure how far she wanted to go in tempting the angels to baptize her. 

Damien asked her with heavy solemnity if she was going to tell Sam, and she hesitated before telling him that she didn’t plan to unless she had more information. All she could possibly say was “something fishy is going on,” and she didn’t want to report something so vague that it would have him on alert to every minuscule thing that could possibly be a culprit. For the moment, she’d just have to keep following K’s advice and hope that it would be enough to keep whatever force was after her at bay.

* * *

Just because Sam was a pop idol didn’t mean he couldn’t be a fanboy, though good luck ever getting him to admit it. There were quite a few groups he followed, but his favorite was an idol named Kary. His first exposure to her was her performance of an ending theme to a relatively unpopular drama (at least he never saw much online about it, probably because it aired at two in the morning); the song was soulful, mournful, and every time it began playing at the end of a heartbreaking cliffhanger scene, it made his eyes burn just a little.

He was surprised to discover that her idol persona was much more upbeat, though he still liked her music even if it was different from his introduction to her. He was surprised that almost none of her fans had ever heard the drama theme she had done, but he supposed it didn’t fit with her image so they weren’t interested. He followed her when she became one of the founding members of Fairy Project, and watched her transition into a more mature sound, letting the younger members take over the spunky role. 

With he and his brothers’ group Incubus rising in popularity, his producer offered the opportunity to do a few collaboration projects with Fairy Project, and he tried not to look too eager when he accepted. It ended up being a song performed by him, Matthew and Kary, and while the audio recording had been done individually, shooting the music video together with her had been a hell of a blast. She was shorter than he had thought she would be, even in heels, and because of the camera tricks the director was trying to pull off, there was a lot of resetting between takes and quite a bit of downtime so they got several chances to talk. Matthew was thankfully often distracted by the amount of hats they had brought in for his wardrobe to switch between throughout the video, so beyond some vague teasing, Kary didn’t catch on that Sam was a fan of hers. They ended up trading phone numbers, and while it was often difficult to keep a conversation going for long with their busy schedules, they got to know each other pretty well and it was fun trading idol stories from both sides of the spectrum.

Both of their groups’ popularity kept rising over the next two years to the point that sometimes their songs were battling on the charts, but beyond occasional manufactured drama from the tabloids, the rivalry was friendly. Their audiences were often different, after all. A few months ago however, Sam had noticed some changes in her career that seemed to be snowballing. She pulled out of several of the idol units, she made fewer appearances and only occasionally showed up in photo shoots of the group, and maybe it was his imagination, but he thought she was losing weight. He had texted her about it but she just said she wasn’t feeling well but was hoping to get better soon.

He took it at face value, and when James was in a car accident that shut down his brain’s ability to create new memories, his focus turned entirely towards his brother. He visited James in the hospital as often as he could, though it hurt every time his brother thought it was the first time he had come to see him. The hospital was still working on his other injuries and making arrangements for how it would work for them to take him home when he ran into Midnight, one of the other idols from Fairy Project, in the small VIP wing of the hospital. He hesitantly told her about his brother’s accident, not sure how much had been reported at that point, and she mentioned that she was there to visit Kary. They ended up trading room numbers, and he headed over to Kary’s room and knocked quietly on the door before poking his head in. 

It struck him hard how small and pale she looked against the white hospital bed sheets. She was sitting up in the raised bed and when she looked up at him, her eyes widened in surprise and she pulled a hand to her chest; her other arm was strapped to the bedrail, an injection port inserted into her vein. 

After the initial shock, she invited him in with a small, shaky smile. She sounded almost apologetic when she explained that she had stomach cancer. “Unresectable” was the word she used, and she was apparently familiar with the blank look of incomprehension that followed her using that term, so she broke it down further: inoperable. Terminal. She didn’t have long. 

Sam slowly approached the edge of the bed, and when she patted it to invite him to sit, he sank down heavily, not sure what to say. She ended up pulling him into conversation, asking him about James when he explained why he was in the hospital, Incubus’s next release, how the rest of his brothers were doing, and they kept talking for a few hours, until her treatment was over and she was being discharged. The nurse explained that the room was needed but that she was welcome to sit as long as she needed in the empty private lounge, so Sam offered her his arm to walk down the hall to the empty waiting room and helped lower her down into sitting on the couch. He was going to straighten back up once she was seated and comfortable, but their faces were so close, and before his brain caught up to what he was doing he had leaned forward to press his lips to hers. 

It was only a brief kiss. He didn’t realize what he had done until he had already pulled away, but Kary reached forward and took one of his hands into both of his and pulled it into her lap. She lowered her head, hiding behind her hair, but even he could see the blush on her cheeks so he was hoping he hadn’t screwed up too badly. He sat down beside her on the couch and pulled her against his side, and they sat in silence for some time until Midnight found them to drive Kary home.

He tried to find time to spend with her whenever he could, though between idol events, practice, and trying to figure out how to take care of James, it was never enough. He heard belatedly that Kary was pushing to do one more concert, because she felt that her fans deserved at least that. He had heard her arguing on the phone with her producer when he was visiting during one of her chemotherapy treatments: “They’re the reason I got so far, and I don’t want to let them down.” Her outward appearance was frail, but she was still so stubborn that it seemed like the iron in her spine hadn’t diminished in the slightest.

The concert was scheduled as quickly as it could be arranged, though there were still nearly two months of production leading up to the event itself and Kary’s health was fading quickly. She had asked Sam to be at the concert if he wasn’t busy with anything else, and he promised her that he’d be there for her, no matter what he had to cancel. 

It wasn’t advertised as her last concert, though the production marketing team did their best to push the event as a type of “grand finale.” It sold well, probably thanks to other members of Fairy Project volunteering to step in as intermediate acts for the show since Kary wasn’t up to choreography anymore. The line up consisted of songs from across her entire idol career, including slower versions of her old spunky pop idol days. 

The night of the concert, a stool was brought out to the stage for Kary’s performances as she was having trouble standing for too long. Most of the concert went off without a hitch, even if most of the songs left her out of breath; however, she did stand when she spoke directly to the fans before the last song of the night. “I know my image has changed over time and I want to thank all my fans, the ones who have stuck with me as I’ve changed and the new ones who maybe only started listening to my songs yesterday. I sing what’s true to me, and I hope my words and message have reached you all. I love you.” 

As the crowd cheered, the sheer deafening volume of the applause and shouts of encouragement made Kary tear up, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. The first notes of her last song began to play, and Sam recognized it from where he stood just off stage as that ending song that he had fallen in love with years ago. However, after a few moments, her eyelids shut and she dropped the microphone with a loud echo of high-pitched feedback from the speakers before she slipped to the ground as if she were a puppet whose strings had been cut. 

Stage hands rushed out to help Kary, but as they lifted her, her head lolled to the side and they hurried off stage, carrying her toward her producer who was already calling 911. Sam wanted to rush after her but he turned back toward the stage and heard the rumble of confusion from the crowd. He knew she would hate to have her concert end with confusion and panic, so after a moment of hesitation, he ran over to the stage manager and let them know to replay the song and give him a headset. He just hoped that the sound engineer was good enough to adjust for his voice on the fly. 

Sam waited until the song began again, the mournfully plucked harp notes silencing the murmurs in the venue, before he stepped onto the stage. The crowd went wild at his appearance, and he concentrated on the music to ensure that he began to sing at the right moment, though he wasn’t particularly worried; he certainly knew it well enough already. He poured his heartbroken feelings into the melody, let the bittersweet lyrics sting his heart as they passed his lips. The fact that this song was the last one that she wanted to perform in her career wasn’t lost on him. When the last note finally tapered off, he bowed formally to the crowd and slipped off to the stage exit before the last instrumentals of the track had even ended. The last strains of the song were still trailing off as memories flooded his mind, and he reached out to grab onto the stage supports to keep himself from sinking to his knees. Perhaps he should have felt bewildered or terrified or confused, but for now, he only felt empty, hopeless despair.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up, this part and the next cover a vague overview of the SM2 plotline with the canon divergence of Carrie instead of Mika being the one pulled into the demon world, because I wrote this before SM2′s script was even written beyond the demo. (Obviously things work out differently in canon!) I don’t think there are any major storyline spoilers, but if you haven’t played Seduce Me 2 yet and you’re a purist, beware!

A few months passed, and Carrie was no closer to discovering the connection between her and Sam, or the two of them and K, or what had been causing so many seemingly coincidental deadly events in her life. There was also the matter of all those past lives Noryn liked to tell her stories about. They always seemed to end poorly, if not violently, and Carrie had to wonder if there was some connection or if she was reading too much into things. She always assumed Noryn was telling the truth (especially since the girl had known so much about her when they had only just met) but in the past, she had taken the past lives and their sad endings with a grain of salt.

With everything that had been happening though, it was hard to continue to assume everything was a coincidence, even if it did make her feel like a bit of a conspiracy theorist. But then, what did that make K? She certainly was no angel, or at least so unlike every other angel in existence that she might as well be her own breed. Demons, devils, and humans weren’t allowed to play with fate, however, so it made her wonder. She didn’t pretend to know everything about the five worlds, so K’s nature remained a mystery to her.

However, there was also the matter that months had passed, and there hadn’t been another life threatening incident since the black market. Her conversations with K had been perfectly normal lately, beyond K cheerfully sidestepping every one of Carrie’s attempts to find out who she was or what she knew. Perhaps there was a possibility that it was a cluster of events and not an ongoing danger. But was she willing to bet her life on it? 

K texted her one day and after a bubbly conversation about a few new offerings at the Pink Lady Cafe, she suggested that Carrie and Sam have a picnic together since the weather was so nice. Carrie hesitated, looking at the message on her phone and debating how to respond. Should she go along with the suggestion? It seemed innocuous enough, but she had learned that even simple requests from K had the habit of keeping her just barely out of harm’s way. She slowly tapped out a response saying that Sam was working today but she might go out on her own, and K responded with a wish that she have fun, and a request to have Sam call her later. “It’s suuuuuper important, okay? :D” had been her exact words, and Carrie’s finger nervously scrolled up and down their conversation as she reread it. Maybe it wasn’t dire? Or maybe Sam didn’t have to be there? Either way, before she left their apartment, she packed a few extra charms and spell reagents into her purse just to be on the safe side. Since her purse was a bottomless pit, it didn’t exactly weigh her down anyway.

As a compromise, she texted Sam and both let him know to call K in a bit, and to work it out so that she could do a video call with him on her phone while she was out at the park. He was stuck doing paperwork at the police station, so he said he didn’t mind the distraction one bit. She wandered through the park and into a grove of trees, following a familiar path through the woods and stepping off of it to find her favorite secluded spot. It was right next to a little brook that most parkgoers didn’t know existed, and a fallen tree trunk was nearby that made an excellent bench. She had brought Sam to this secret place several times, and the memories of them together there brought a smile to her face as she set up a little blanket and pulled a sandwich and some snacks out of her purse to munch on. She found a broken nub of a branch on the fallen tree to rest her phone on and hit the call button in the Skype app, praying that it felt like working at the moment.

Luck was on her side and it connected quickly, and her smile widened when she saw Sam grinning back at her. She waved her fingers and took in his surroundings; he explained that he had commandeered one of the conference rooms at the station because he couldn’t get any work done with everyone dropping by his desk every five minutes. She noted the slight blush on his cheeks (now that they were dating, she wasn’t so blind to his reactions) and she had a feeling he also wanted some privacy so his coworkers didn’t interrupt their call every five minutes. She couldn’t blame him since she knew his coworkers loved to tease him about anything and everything. 

Their conversation ebbed and flowed and sometimes lapsed into silence as he concentrated on something particular for work and she nibbled at her lunch, gaze sweeping the trees around her before she returned her attention to Sam. She carefully pulled the phone from its resting place and settled down on her stomach on the blanket-covered forest floor before propping the phone up on the log against the ground. She pulled her arms back once she was finished adjusting the camera and laid her cheek against her forearm, unabashedly watching him work as he flipped through papers and scanned his eyes across documents. 

When he finally looked up at his screen again, his cheeks reddened. “W-What are you looking all dreamy for, doofus?”

She chuckled. “Just because I love you, you dork.” She lifted a hand to her mouth, hiding her lips as she softly whispered, “ _Lascivio_ ,” before blowing a kiss toward her phone’s screen. 

Sam’s eyebrows shot up and he lifted a hand to his cheek. She knew he had felt a little shock, and his warm smile made her heart swell. “Where’d you learn how to do that one?”

“Secret! Gotta keep you on your toes, demon boy,” she teased as she closed her eyes and rested her chin on her forearm. As silly as it was, she was tempted to take a nap out in the forest under the dappled sunshine that managed to reach her through the tree canopy. It was so quiet, beyond the rumble of a couple voices behind her; she assumed someone was coming up the trail nearby and didn’t pay it much mind.

At least, not until she heard Sam say her name quietly, the low rumbling warning in his voice startling her awake. She fought against her heavy eyelids as she instinctively reached for her purse and pulled the strap over her shoulder, hand reaching for the zipper as she looked around. She heard cackling laughter, but she couldn’t make out the source. 

“ _Spiritus lumine_ –” She began to form the words to a spell, but the sound of voices _beneath_ her caught her off guard enough to distract her from finishing the incantation. A dark red pentagram glowed underneath her, tripping her pulse into overdrive as she stared in disbelief. 

“Tsk, holy magic too…”

“Grab her!!”

She felt foreign fingers take hold of her legs, and she only managed to choke out the first syllable of Sam’s true name as she was pulled into the ground and through a dark void. Her senses reeled at the lack of gravity, the space around her devoid of light and heat. 

“Check out that demon mark… are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that the third son? Ooh, the Demon Lord is going to have lots of fun with his new toy~”

 _Demon Lord? Toy?!_ She clawed at the hands that were pulling her along through the dark space, a shrill scream building up in her chest and escaping her lips in pure desperation. 

Abruptly the hands let go and gravity reasserted itself, pulling Carrie sideways and onto some flat surface. The first thing that rose above the torrent of confusion in her mind was Sam’s true name again, but the images that came with it were… wrong. Aomaris: pop idol? Aomaris: dragon? Aomaris: her knight? What…?

“Who is this?” a woman spoke from above her, but it took a moment to register her speech; Carrie’s mind was reeling from the thoughts–memories?–that had suddenly filled her mind to the brim. 

“My lady, please forgive me. I felt something moving between our worlds and…” a man was speaking to the woman, but his words didn’t register as more images jumped to the fore of Carrie’s thoughts. She was having a hard time taking in the room around her with memories pressing forward every moment in a jumble of different flashes that kept pulling her attention inward to try and sort out the mess inside of her mind.

She tried focusing on the woman first, an inexplicable spark of recognition firing. That long hair, those red eyes… “D-Diana… or… Ezaeur?” Carrie wasn’t sure where the names came from but she knew them, knew this woman somehow. She saw glimpses in her mind of a woman who looked identical to the one before her, only dressed in an exquisite evening gown or spinning around a pole wearing very little, but not… naked, save for purple markings on her skin and horns twisting upward from her hair. A succubus?

The woman–Ezaeur?–visibly shivered when Carrie spoke that name in particular. The man next to her gripped his spear tightly, giving her the same bewildered look. 

“How… do you know those names?” the woman asked, the red eye that wasn’t hidden by a fall of hair slowly narrowing. 

“Memories… I think? I’m sorry, when I was pulled here, I think…” Carrie said slowly. Her brain took a moment to equate her memories of this person as “Diana” with Sam’s description of a Diana as the succubus who had tried to drag the incubus brothers back to the demon world. Were they the same? What other demon of Lilith would go by a human name? “The Demon Lord’s sons… mentioned you, and how you tried to get them to return some time ago. Which… world am I in? Is this the Abyssal Plains?”

Diana’s expression remained carefully neutral. “This is indeed the demon world, dear. Were you playing with magic and it got out of hand?”

“There were voices in the void, my lady. I believe they were imp demons,” the man next to her explained, and Carrie realized that she recognized him as well. Prince Saero? The last image she recalled of him was hazy, his lips blue and bloodless, contrasting the spreading crimson pool beneath the gaping puncture wound in his chest. 

Several other forms that were in the room with her took shape, other demons, questioning her connection with the Demon Lord’s heirs. She didn’t recognize them, and she tried to use the distraction to push away whatever her mind was conjuring to focus on the present. She was in the demon world. She had to get back to the human world, somehow. She knew none of the demons before her, even if the memories that had somehow pushed themselves into her mind made two of them recognizable. She couldn’t trust them. Demons weren’t inherently evil of course, not like devils, but they had no reason to want to help her. 

Diana, however, offered to send her back, if the others would allow her to speak with “the human” in private. Carrie’s pulse picked up in worried anticipation, especially when the man with the spear insisted on remaining as well, but Diana’s questions were to the point: she wanted to know where Carrie had learned her name. 

She explained that she wasn’t sure, had felt unfamiliar memories intruding in her mind once she had been pulled from the human world, even offered Saero’s name as proof but that seemed to alarm the guard rather than reassure him. Were those their true names? Carrie insisted that she would never speak them aloud again if they wished; she hadn’t meant to blurt it out, she had just been so disoriented that trying to place the succubus’s face had been her intent. Diana watched her carefully, and Carrie nearly wilted under her calculating gaze, but she apparently made up her mind and nodded before calling out for her spymaster to return and assist her in casting a shadow gate spell to return Carrie to the human world. 

The spell… almost worked. The spymaster, a shadow demon if Carrie was correct, had manipulated Diana’s shadow into becoming a gate through the void. However, the moment she had tried to step through, a burst of red light and arcs of lightning shrouded the gate and sent both her and Diana hurtling backwards, their fall only broken by the stone floor.

A booming, violently angry voice filled the room. “How dare you interfere with my summoning?!” An image pulsed through the energy of the portal, a black sigil formed by a pentagram and a sinister skull, and the violent energy that had sparked across her skin traveled inward until it nearly seized her heart. “That human is MINE! She will NEVER leave this world alive!!”

The other demons called out for the spymaster to close the portal, and he violently ripped his arm away, the shadow that belonged to Diana slipping away from the wall and returning to her form. Saero rushed away with Diana in his arms, leaving Carrie curled up on the floor once again, trying to shake off the last of the shocks from the magical assault.

After a brief discussion, the fae demon approached her and hovered nearby, asking if she was all right. The demon with rabbit ears offered her a hand, asking if she would mind following her to a room to rest. After standing slowly, nearly thrown off by the weight of the purse still looped around her shoulders, Carrie went; she didn’t have any other options. She knew that animal demons were usually among the most potent spellcasters in the demon world, so as they walked she cautiously brought up the sigil she had seen before the shadow gate had been closed. Though it seemed almost impossible, the two of them came to the conclusion that it had been a barrier curse. Why the Demon Lord would sacrifice a thousand demons to ensnare one human was beyond their comprehension, but the spell effects matched what they had seen.

The rabbit demon promised to pass the information when the succubus was “finished resting,” though Carrie had a good idea as to what Diana truly kept her guard around for. Not that she blamed her. Once she was left alone in the guest room with nothing but silence around her, she sat down heavily on the bed and began to unpack memories at a slow pace, trying not to get overwhelmed again.

Though it was obvious in retrospect, it took her a while to realize that they were memories from past lives. She worked to connect the images with stories she had heard from Noryn: drowning in high school, something about a gang, even princesses– wait, had her cat Noryn in one life been her _friend_ Noryn? She began to realize how much her friend had left out. Had she been softening the blow, or were her recollections simply hazy? And why could Noryn remember everything, but Carrie was only remembering now?

The further back Carrie tried to push, trying to find some kind of reason for these recollections to surface now, the more she began to recognize a pattern that sent chills down her spine. She had never lived to middle or old age, ever. Always dying young, always after having fallen for Sam in whatever incarnation he took. Always her dying first, ripped away from him so soon. The multitude of life threatening events she had gone through after each time she had met him suddenly took on a chilling new light. Why was her life different this time? Did K know about the trend her previous lives had followed? How could she, when Carrie herself hadn’t known?  


Shot, stabbed, nearly beheaded, wasting away… Though she loved the happy memories with Sam that she was able to relive, the deaths that ended every single one of her previous lives bubbled up to the surface. They made her ache with phantom pains, sharp regret and loneliness. How many times had Sam lost her? Seen her die? As much as reliving her numerous deaths frightened her, the realization that Sam had had to live through losing her every time hurt more than whatever pain she had gone through. 

The more she strained to conjure images to find some kind of explanation, the fainter the memories became. The farthest back she could remember, there was something about walking through the woods, and wolves, and something red? But as she tried to force the memories forward, exhaustion began to roll over her and she felt her head nod before jerking upwards. She fell to the side on the bed and through immense effort shifted her purse to a more comfortable position and dragged her feet up onto the blankets. She intended just to lie down while she worked on sorting through the torrent of new information in her mind, but almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

* * *

When her mind resurfaced later, she felt rested but disoriented. With no windows in the room she had no way of telling how much time had passed. Not that she would have been able to tell, anyway; she knew that time moved differently in the Abyssal Plains, and even if she were to catch a glimpse of the purported violet and orange skies, she probably wouldn’t know how to tell time based on it. The mattress was immensely comfortable, so Carrie remained on her side as her mind drifted. Her surroundings brought to mind another castle from a past life, and a certain knight named Aomaris that came to accompany her from the kingdom of Midnight. The thought of Sam made her heart give a hard squeeze, wondering if or when she’d see him again. Would it be in this life? Her friend in that life Princess Iridessa, however, brought her mind back to the present. Iri was tied to her past lives as well? Was that actually normal, for everyone to be tied together life after life? It didn’t seem right to her, but then, she had never particularly studied the life cycle of souls beyond the basics. Still, it brought an additional weight to the situation that seemed to be getting heavier at every turn. When she thought too hard about everything that seemed to be conspiring against her and Sam, her lungs felt as if they were turning to stone in her chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

Carrie was pulled out of her melancholy by Diana entering the room. Apparently while she had been sleeping, Diana had “recovered” and the rabbit demon had shared their discussion with the others. The succubus asked her to return to the war room to discuss what was to be done with her, and Carrie obediently followed with her purse in tow, just in case. The other demons from her impromptu arrival were all present, and Diana formally introduced them as other leaders of the rebellion that was taking on the Demon Lord and his armies. They explained that they had finally cornered the Demon Lord in his keep, his armies backed up against the Decaying Sea, and the final battle would occur within the next week. The barrier curse cast upon Carrie could only be broken if the caster, the Demon Lord, was killed; if the rebellion was victorious, in a week, she could go home. If they weren’t, well, then the curse would be the least of her worries. 

Carrie nodded in understanding, her mind racing ahead to think of possible ways of passing a message back to the human world to let Sam know she was all right, when a bright light flashed through the room, narrowing to a brilliant white tear in the space near the fireplace. 

The brute demon commander was the first to unsheathe his sword, calling out for the others to ready themselves. Diana moved backward, throwing an arm out in front of Carrie to push her back toward the wall. She couldn’t help but watch anxiously from over Diana’s shoulder, and her breath escaped in a rush of relief when the light of the tear faded slightly to reveal Sam walking through it, his brothers at his back. His gaze swept the room, landing on Carrie before flicking to Diana standing in front of her, and she watched his eyes alight with rage as he charged the succubus, pinning her to the wall with an audible snarl before she could finish blinking.

“You stay the hell _away from her!!_ ” he shouted into Diana’s face, and Saero was instantly at Sam’s side, ripping him away from the succubus and attacking with his spear. Carrie’s gaze was torn between Diana, who was just pulling away from the wall and rubbing her throat, and the fight between the two men that was happening nearly too fast for her to follow. 

“Sam!!” she called out, but he was too focused on fighting Saero to hear her. 

“Are you all right, Carrie?” Erik asked as he and the other brothers approached her, forming a physical barrier between her and the other demons in the room, but her attention was solely on Sam and the flurry of attacks he was directing toward Saero.

Power welled up inside of her, more than she was used to thanks to the magical nature of the Abyssal Plains, and the words “ _Potentia eos!_ ” escaped her lips as she reached forward. Her hands wrenched apart as a burst of force flew outward and separated the two opponents, their feet skidding with resistance across the stone floor. Sam’s attention finally snapped back to her, and his chest heaved once with a sharp exhale before he was suddenly in front of her and pulling her into his arms, a hand rising to press her head against his shoulder. 

“Carrie,” he murmured, her name falling from his lips with a low, trembling intensity that left her shivering. “ _God_ , Carrie…” Somewhere in the room beyond she could hear Diana speaking, but her focus was entirely on the man holding her. Sam’s muscles were locked tight around her, his chest heaving powerfully with every tremulous breath. Her past memories washed over her again, reminding her of every time he had held her close in so many lifetimes, and her heart lurched in her chest as her eyes began to burn with tears. She squeezed her eyelids shut to stave off the tight feeling, her breathing choked and tight as she inhaled his scent, so comforting and familiar that it warmed her soul. Rolling waves of love washed over her; she hadn’t thought it was possible to love him more than she already did, but that feeling compounding over lifetimes made her tremble with the depth of emotion that shook her.

She could tell by the tremors in Sam’s arms, the tightness of his embrace, the gravity in his voice, that he remembered too. She wasn’t sure how, wasn’t sure what it meant, but for now all she wanted was to be near him and _remember_.

The world continued to revolve around them, even though they hardly noticed. She caught vague pieces of Diana and James’s conversation, something about the Demon Lord’s summoning and the barrier curse and the rebellion, but the only thing that took her concentration from Sam was when he pulled away from her slightly and interlaced their fingers before pulling her along and out of the room, following after the rabbit demon again who led the pair down the hallway to the room Carrie had used earlier. 

Once the door closed behind them, Sam wasted no time in pulling her over to the bed after him, and they tumbled backward onto the mattress together. She kept meaning to speak, to say something, but no words seemed to be enough. Judging from the way his eyes searched her expression, he was having the same problem. His thumb swiped slowly across her cheek, and she didn’t realize until then that she had lost the battle in trying to fight back her tears. Rather than struggle against them, she gave him a wobbly attempt at a smile before pressing her lips to his, the soft contact sending warmth flooding through her body.

She pulled away and let her head rest against his chest, letting herself drift away on the ebb and flow of his steady breathing. One arm rested on her waist, his other hand sifting through strands of her hair as he pulled it loose and then tucked it behind her ear. It didn’t seem like he was going to let her go anytime soon, which was exactly what she wanted. 


	20. Chapter 20

Sam was worried. Kary, the baker girl who worked together with his brother Matthew to make and sell baked goods in the village, hadn’t returned from her mother’s cottage on the far side of the east forest. She made the trek every week to bring her mother sundries, and usually Sam accompanied her (at first out to obligation, just looking out for his younger brother’s partner, and later due to the growing feelings between them), but due to his father’s demands that he hunt for pelts in the northern mountains to sell, he hadn’t been able to join her. She insisted on going alone even when he offered to ask one of his brothers to go with her. “I’ve made the journey a thousand times,” she had explained to him in that patient, chiding voice of hers that usually allowed her to get her way.  


He knew that she was surprisingly stubborn and that he wouldn’t be able to talk her out of it, so he had leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a gruff order to be careful. She had hummed quietly in triumph before promising to keep an eye out and giving him a tight squeeze, her arms lingering around him before she pulled away and gave him a cheerful little wave as she headed on her way. 

Not for the first time, Sam wished he could communicate with the wolves that lived in the eastern forest. He had come to an understanding with them; they even treated him as one of their pack when he went hunting in their territory since he usually left part of his kill for them, and they had learned to tolerate his presence and even expect him. They tended to track his movements through the forest, and from what he could tell, they had even protected him a time or two. Word had spread through the village, to the point that several people had taken to calling him the Wolf as some kind of nickname. Still, as much as he appreciated the pack’s acceptance of him, he wished he could ask for their help in looking after Kary. He knew things lurked in that forest, even if they had never crossed her path before.

His hunting trip to the north went about as expected, and his pack was loaded down with pelts as he headed back to the foothills on his way home when he caught the mournful call of a wolf echoing over the landscape, layering over another howl that sounded from farther away. The sound chilled him; he knew it could be anything, calling for a mate, rallying the pack, but something about the way it traveled from afar set him on edge and he pressed on through the night to make it back to the village.

When he heard from Matthew that Kary hadn’t returned from visiting her mother, Sam shook off his exhaustion and immediately set off into the eastern forest. Calls from the wolves echoed around him and soon the wolf pack had joined him. From the way several of them ran ahead and kept looking to make sure he was following, he knew to follow their lead. With every hurried step through the underbrush he prayed to the gods, and every panted breath that left his lips carried a whisper of her name. He wished that she was lost, he wished that she was simply injured, he wished that she was blissfully unaware that he was searching for her in a panic–

The last wish, unfortunately, was true. The wolves at the fore led him to a large tree stretching upward into the canopy, the others in the pack circling the area. At the base of the tree lay a form on its side cloaked in red, and his heart squeezed painfully as it came into view. His first violent reaction was to look away, _he didn’t want to know_ , but his feet brought him closer to the figure and he knelt down next to it.

It was Kary. Her face was so pale, eyes closed; he could make out the dried tear tracks running down her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose. Specks of blood lined her lips, but the brunt of it had been lost from a wound in her chest, the underbrush below her body stained a rusty brown. He knew her skin would be cold when he touched it, but brushing his fingers over her arm still sent a deep chill through him. He had loved to tease her about the way her hands had always been cold, but this was…

A snapped growl caught his attention and he looked up just in time to see the wolves arching, ready to attack an intruder: a fox, nose in the air, no doubt smelling the opportunity for a quick and easy meal. The snarling wolves, however, convinced the other animal that this particular meal wouldn’t be so easy to acquire, and it bounded away into the forest. 

The wolves must have been keeping her safe; he didn’t know how long it had been since she died, but normally the forest would have quickly taken what was left of her. He was grateful, but still, too late. The gaping wound was a mess of crusted blood, and he couldn’t make out what had caused it. 

He sat next to her for a while, he didn’t know how long. The occasional wolf muzzle would push up against him, shaking him out of his empty staring only briefly before his thoughts drifted away again. He knew healers, but no one who could bring anyone back from the dead. Except… There was a woman, a witch if the village rumors were true (though who knew if they were or not), who supposedly held power over much in the world. Sam’s father had angered her enough to bring a torrential storm down on them all a while back, though he didn’t know the details beyond that. His father had always been a hell of a bastard and his word couldn’t be trusted. If anyone could help him, if anything at all could be done, she might be the only one who had the power.

Sam lifted Kary into his arms and made the journey to the witch’s shack, his wolf pack traveling with him most of the way though they shied away from the woman’s dwelling itself, sniffing at the clearing warily and refusing to venture near. The witch, who gave her name as V, invited him in with a smile and rubbed her hands together at the girl in his arms, instructing him to lay her down on her kitchen table.

She couldn’t do anything about the poor girl, at least not in this lifetime, she explained. However, she could entwine their fates, bringing them together in the next life, and the next and the next. She could even guarantee that they’d fall in love again, if he didn’t mind giving up his memories of her. Sam agreed, the witch’s words washing over him as his eyes remained locked on the girl. 

“We could just make new memories, together… And I can still love her, and that’s all that I want.” His hand reached out of its own volition and stroked the silver streak of hair at her ear before his knuckles brushed against her temple. He wished he could do something to warm her, bundle her in her cloak or something; he remembered how many times he had caught her blowing into her cupped hands, how much she hated being cold. 

V continued to speak, her words forming an incantation that made the back of Sam’s ears burn. He watched as the witch unraveled a long thread from Kary’s red cloak, and insistently pulled his hand to her and tied a knot around his finger. She then trailed it down to the girl, but instead of tying it around one of the her fingers, the thread was looped and tied tight around Kary’s neck. The placement of the knot at her throat made him uneasy, and for the first time, he began to wonder if he had made the situation worse by trying to fix it. 

When the witch crooked a finger at him to lean closer to her, he hesitated before doing so. She had him move closer, and closer still, until his ear was nearly at her lips. He was leaned so far forward that he didn’t notice the knife in her hands until she had thrust it forward and embedded it in his stomach. He felt the smooth slide of the metal into his gut, and the horrific tug she gave it as she pulled it upward. He reached out to the table instinctively to try and hold himself upright, his hand inadvertently brushing against Kary’s cold fingers. 

The witch spoke softly into his ear, her words dripping with venom and promise. “Every time her soul leaves this plane, you will recall every memory, every failure. Your happiness is bound to my satisfaction, boy. As long as…” She continued to speak but the words failed to register in his mind. Sam slid forward and the witch stepped out of his path, letting him slip to the floor with a hard impact that would have hurt if not for the agonizing tear in his stomach that was all he could feel. Warmth seeped out of the wound, leaving him as cold as the girl attached to the other end of the thread around his finger. The last thing he could sense was the high pitched, mournful howls of the wolves outside. 

* * *

With the demon rebellion’s forces behind them, taking the Demon Lord down became Sam and Carrie’s focus. He explained that K had contacted him after he had watched her disappear, and not only had she helped the brothers open a portal back to the demon world, but she had also hinted that she knew about the curse and had wished him luck in “getting it done this time.” Carrie wasn’t sure what that meant, but she just hoped it indicated that they were on the right path. She shared her suspicions on K’s true nature and all the times she had saved her life, but Sam wasn’t sure what to make of her either. 

Rallying and training the troops took place over the next week, as well as several missions to help bolster their strength and undermine the Demon Lord’s army. Sam was loathe to let Carrie out of his sight, though; he became hyper-vigilant, terrorized by the thought of something happening to her now, during the one lifetime where they had both managed to rediscover their memories together. She didn’t mind for the most part; she didn’t want to be separated from him, anyway. The realization of what he had had to go through every lifetime, not only her dying but his memories returning afterward and having to go on living with that horrid weight of the past, made her ache for him. 

When the final siege took place on the Demon Lord’s castle, she and Sam fought side by side to confront the tyrant himself at the top of the bone tower. The hum of magic in Carrie’s veins had never been as strong as it was in the Abyssal Plains, and she used the full extent of her arsenal (as well as a few spells she had learned from the rabbit demon on the rebellion’s war council) to help Sam eliminate the Demon Lord for good. 

Diana and Saero joined the fight part way through, having fought through the throng to make their way to the Demon Lord. Sam struck the killing blow, making sure to cleave his father’s head from his shoulders to be sure the deed was done. Diana took the head and brought it to the edge of the tower, shouting at the troops in triumph. The cry carried, echoed by the demons below, until Carrie’s bones nearly vibrated with the roar of victory.

Once the battle was over, all Carrie wanted to do was go home, and Sam felt the same. James insisted on staying long enough to at least see Diana take over as the Demon Queen, but Sam was done, which spoke volumes; she knew that he missed the Abyssal Plains, missed being a demon without needing to hide, but more than anything, the human world felt like home and where he needed to return to. His brothers said that they had a plan to get home already lined up, so they stayed behind just a little longer to stabilize the Abyssal Plains while Sam led Carrie through the spell to open a portal through the void back to the human world.

She didn’t expect to end up in the Pink Lady Cafe after hours, K throwing her hands up in celebration at seeing them. 

“Way to break the curse, guys!” she cheered, giving them a lone round of applause. 

Carrie’s eyebrows shot up, and the shock of passing through different dimensions coupled with the battle they had fought not long before had her sass rising to the fore. “Oh, so _now_ it’s okay to talk about it?”

“Hey, come on, I did what I could! You’re welcome, sheesh.” K shrugged off Carrie’s comment and then shook her finger at the two of them. “In fact, I’m going to sweeten the deal a little more. Since you ended the curse that was unfairly cast in the first place, I’ve got some leeway to give you guys a little something extra. You’ve gotta stick around Sam, but Carrie, you need to head home. Get some rest or something, and I’ll send him along when he’s done.”

“Done doing what? After everything we’ve been through, you’re not done with him yet?!” Carrie’s hand shot out to grip onto Sam’s forearm, her pulse beginning to hammer against the skin of her temples. They were _done_ , dammit. No more. “Look, I don’t care if the barrier curse was ‘unfair’ or not. I’m just glad we’re back and I really just want to go home, together with him. Okay?” 

K raised a hand to her chin and tittered, which didn’t improve Carrie’s disposition. “Who said anything about the barrier curse? I’m talking about the curse that’s been chasing you both through lifetimes, girl! You know, the one I’ve been helping you out with? The one you’ve been trying to pester me about for months? You killed Sam’s dad, boom, curse over!”

The cafe owner leaned in closer, speaking in a stage whisper as she continued. “See, the muse that placed the curse in the first place? She didn’t have the right to do that. It’s pretty taboo to put such a serious curse on your charact– I mean, on people who haven’t directly wronged you, and you two had done nothing to her at all! And when I talked to Sam, she didn’t even let him hear the final part of the spell to break the curse!! I mean, I like bending the rules and even _I_ wouldn’t dare pull that _._  So, I did a little nudging to get you on the right track and here you are, curse broken, home safe and sound, and I’m about to give you a bonus you _don’t_ want to miss out on. Okay?” She reached into her pocket and tossed over a set of keys that Carrie fumbled to catch. “Here, take my car! I’ll pick it up tomorrow, just get home in one piece, yeah? Trust me, after a good night’s sleep, you’ll feel a lot better~”

She shooed Carrie toward the door and the witch stumbled backward, hand falling away from Sam’s arm reluctantly as her eyes rose to his face. He was giving her a reassuring half smile; she could tell he had no idea what K’s plan was, but he wanted to go through with it anyway. The little selfish voice in Carrie’s head just wanted nothing more than to go home with Sam; however, K had already saved her life multiple times, and if she was telling the truth, had also been guiding them to this point, so the least Carrie could do was let her continue her scheme.

With a heavy, uncertain heart, she left the cafe and headed home on her own in K’s little hatchback. Though a week had passed in the Abyssal Plains, she knew that perhaps a day and a half had gone by in the human world. Had she missed any appointments? She didn’t have the energy to even dig her planner out of her purse as she unlocked their apartment door and entered the dark space. She closed and locked the door behind her, the flip of the switch jarring to her as she hadn’t had electricity for the past eight days. 

The apartment felt like home, but there was still an unsettling chill that skimmed her skin. She didn’t like being home alone right now, it felt wrong after everything that had happened. She moved toward the bedroom, purse slipping off of her shoulder as she dove onto the bed face first before turning over, almost certain that she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep until Sam was home with her. However, a deep pull at the back of her mind had her closing her eyes, and she drifted to sleep much quicker than she would have thought.


	21. Chapter 21

Devil on top of her, pressing her painfully against the steps of the temple. Her own dagger closing in on her neck.  Amulet gone, shattered, useless. _Useless, just like her_.

She heard a male voice shout a name she recognized; Kerii? Wasn’t that her name before the shrine owners that adopted her as an orphan had renamed her Reiko? How did anyone know that–?

Distracted by her mind focusing on that name, she was quickly shaken out of it and back to reality when the blade at her throat and the devil attached to it were both forcibly pulled away from her. She stared in shock as the demon named Sam lifted her attacker and threw him across the temple grounds, shooting a death glare at the devil’s trajectory before turning back to her. He reached down and lifted her with a surprising amount of gentleness, considering that she had just seen him toss his opponent like a ragdoll. “Get back and stay with Mika, all right?” he murmured, his eyes flicking between hers. “We got this.”

He stood still for another moment as he watched her expression, eyes sweeping over her in what looked like relief, but she didn’t understand why. She assumed he was just waiting for a response from her, so she nodded. “Thanks,” was all she could spit out, and she swallowed and tried to follow it with, “Did you just call me…” but he was gone, back in the fray, and she backed up the stairs to the temple proper to protectively stand next to Mika.

“Wai! Wai!! He figured it out!!” Mika was clapping happily, a stark contrast to the fighting that was still happening though it was mercifully turning in the girls’ favor thanks to the assistance from the demon brothers. She turned her wide toothy grin to Reiko, looking like nothing so much as a content little kitten. “Everything’s gonna happy now, Reirei-neesan!”

* * *

The tentacle that gripped the hull of the ship had Kary’s heart pounding her chest. If that was the size of only one of the tentacles, how large must the rest of the creature be? She pushed aside that hysterical thought and slashed at the large line of flesh blocking her way, though its rubbery exterior was thick enough that her weapons merely glanced over the surface. Damn it all, their cannons did them no good when the enemy was _beneath_ them!

In a fit of desperation she called down her magic, clouds gathering as a storm brewed overhead. Lightning struck around the ship; she could summon the lightning but not direct it beyond keeping it away from the vessel. She hoped that the choppy seas might spur the creature into seeking shelter deep within the ocean waters, but luck was not favoring her today. She drove the tip of her short sword into the tentacle, but the piercing wound seemed only to anger it, and its tentacle was joined by another that slung over the ship and squeezed tightly against the hull. She could hear the horrific crack and groan of the wood shifting and buckling beneath her feet. If the ship went down here so far from land, there was no chance of the crew surviving.

Her final resort was to call for Aomaris and hope he was close enough to hear her; she was continuously amazed by her dragon, so she could only pray that he heard her as he said he would. Her shout had barely left her lips when she heard an answering, bellowing roar split the skies. She gasped and cut off the storm spell just as she saw Sam in his dragon form hurtle forward toward the sea, wings folded, dive bombing the ship’s attacker and sending a torrent of water spraying over the side of the ship.

Kary pulled her sword back just in time for the tentacles to loosen their hold and slither back into the ocean. The deck rocked with the violence that was happening just under the waves, and she heard the captain call out for the crew to check on the integrity of the hull and make sure everyone was accounted for. She was just pulling a stunned but otherwise unharmed soldier to his feet when out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam in his human form climbing over the railing and hopping down onto the deck. His eyes scanned the length of the ship until they widened when he saw her, and she rushed over to him as he began to head for her as well.

“Are you all right?” they asked each other at the same time, and the sound of their voices sounding in unison brought a smile to Sam’s face.

Kary’s heart was still hammering in her chest, and she inhaled sharply when she noticed that the water flowing down Sam’s neck was tinged pink with diluted blood. She reached up to examine the wound in his scalp, but the easy smile on his face was also making her worry. Normally he was much more reserved, stilted a bit even, not entirely at ease in his human form, but right now he was watching her with a gentle smile that made her simultaneously concerned and warm. She thanked him for coming to her rescue, but he seemed content to watch her and bow his head a little so she could fuss over him. Kary only hoped that the change in his attitude was simply relief, and not from his head injury.

* * *

“You’re welcome to scream for help if you want, but it’s pointless. Strange noises at jobsites are so easy to explain away. We’re about to pour the concrete, and no one is ever going to find your body.”

Cool metal was jammed against her forehead. She had to cross her eyes a little to bring the finger on the trigger into focus. Elliott had Kary on her knees, the barrel of his handgun pressed to her skin as he gloated. Maybe this was the bad luck she had accumulated from relying on Midnight so much, and now she was out of options.

The girls would be fine, they were tough. If Elliott stayed true to his braggart nature and told everyone that Lady Luck’s good fortune had run out, Midnight would be safe for the time being. And Sam… Her heart gave a painful squeeze in her chest as her mind traced the lines of his face one last time. She regretted that she couldn’t do anything for him now. He had his brothers, and Mika. Kary just hoped it would be enough. 

Elliott’s smug grin widened as he racked back the slide dramatically. “Are you lucky enough to cheat death, _Lady Luck_?”

She thought she heard a distant noise just before his finger tightened on the trigger, but the explosive concussion of the gunshot echoed so loudly in her ears that her brain registered nothing but blaring and high-pitched ringing and _pain_. She squeezed her eyes shut and collapsed to the side in a boneless heap, waiting for her thoughts to disappear forever. 

She waited, ticking off each agonizing second as she gritted her teeth against the pain. Kept waiting. _Still. Waiting_. She couldn’t lie, she had hoped to die quicker than this; right now there were only her overblown senses that registered nothing but agony pooling in the space between her ears. 

Though her hearing was decimated she could feel thumping against the ground as someone – Elliott? Wait, more than just him? – moved around her. Stomping? Impacts? She couldn’t pull together the information in her brain, nerves still overloaded, tripping over too much sensation. 

Then something grabbed her and there was indecipherable yelling that sounded so far away and yet it still joined the wretched cacophony ripping her head apart. Something was shaking her, making her squeeze her eyes tighter at the new explosions released in her head. She couldn’t hear, couldn’t _think_ over the excruciating pain of it. She tried to move her lips to say something, anything to get it to stop, and suddenly it worked and the world stilled, the tight feeling around her loosening until it felt as if she was floating. The pain was still there however, pressing into her temples and exploding behind her eyes and her ears _please let the pain stop_ –

Then there was nothing.

She didn’t know how much time passed; she didn’t sense it moving forward. As the darkness lifted slowly like layers of curtains being pulled aside, she felt her ears ringing with an incessant high tone. She turned her head to the side to try and push one ear against the pillow beneath her to make the sound go away, but that damn high pitched whine wouldn’t leave. 

“Ugh… that ringing…”

“Doctor said it’ll stick around for a while. Weeks, maybe longer. You’re lucky to have your hearing at all.” 

She recognized Sam’s voice over the noise. The ringing seemed to recede slightly while he was speaking, though it altered the sound of everything, playing with pitches just a little so that everything she heard was barely out of tune from what she was used to.

Her eyes opened slowly, taking in the blinding light of the mostly white and cream room around her. Sam was standing beside her hospital bed, arms crossed, eyebrows knitted tightly in concern. He reached out to the bandage covering the shell of her right ear, his fingertip barely brushing against it as he followed the curve. She shivered violently when his finger dipped inward unexpectedly, nerves firing off in an uncomfortable frenzy. 

“Besides your hearing you’re mostly fine, except for this. Even if the bullet didn’t hit you, the force was enough to… You’ve got a little piece missing right here.” 

She couldn’t help but chuckle darkly, the skin of her forehead prickling as she recalled the press of cold metal against it. “He missed. Point blank shot, and he _missed_. Of any of the places he could have shot me instead… ”

She swallowed around her thick, dry tongue, the next words she wanted to speak fading away for a moment as the violently victorious expression on Elliot’s face surfaced in her mind. Her eyes flicked over to the closed door; she knew it was unlikely but there was a small part of her that was terrified of him walking into the room and finishing what he had started. “Ah… What happened to Elliott…?”

“Damien’s taking care of Elliott.” Sam’s response was cold and quiet; it sounded strange to her still-ringing ears, almost making her wince. 

“Y-You didn’t–” 

“He’s not dead. Not yet, anyway.” Sam’s words were meant to be reassuring but his tone was still stiff, though he blew out a breath and sat down on the bed next to her, his hand still resting on her cheek. “Still debating on whether it’s worth it to let that shitstain live and weasel his way out of charges with some fancy fucking lawyer, or if we should just take care of it ourselves and be done with it.”

He was talking about murder. It was obvious, but it still hit her hard. That was something that she would have expected from the Incubus gang, but not the Anderson brothers; she knew the difference now. She belatedly realized one of her arms was attached to an IV, so she placed her other hand on his leg and squeezed him gently. She knew how much he didn’t want to go back to being that person. “Please, don’t? You don’t have to be Aomaris anymore, Sam.”

He leaned closer, his emerald irises flicking between her eyes slowly, his focus entirely on her. “I could for you, Kary. I’d do anything for you.”

* * *

Kary fought against the hand holding her head underwater, her fingers clawing at the skin of his wrist and arm. She wanted to thrash, she wanted to scream for help, but her lungs were already burning and she knew she’d need every bit of air she had if she wanted to get through this alive. However, she had been under the surface of the water for so long that she could feel the liquid burning her nose as it tried to intrude, and her limbs were growing heavy and unresponsive. Her chest felt like it was going to burst, and even her fear of dying felt like a belated, sluggish spark in her mind. 

Somehow the hand holding her down disappeared, but she couldn’t muster the effort to push herself up above the water’s surface. She was about to give up and exhale her final breath, knowing that the next inhale would surely drown her, when something grabbed hold of her wrist and she was pulled forcefully upward.

She lost her sense of space and direction as she left the water. The effort of breathing made her choke, and she coughed and sputtered as her lungs spasmed with the fresh air she was pulling in. She felt concrete beneath her; she was half sitting on the walkway around her family’s pool, her body listing to the side but something warm was keeping her upright. The presence of heat made her realize how cold she felt, and she shivered as an exaggerated tremor wormed its way through her body. Her eyes cracked open and her vision drifted over the pool and her backyard, and it took a while for gaze to focus on the still form that was lying several feet away on the ground splayed out in front of her. _Zach_.

“Shhh,” the sound originated from behind her, the soft whispering hush accompanied by a warm hand moving over her wet hair and the chilled edge of her jaw. Her shoulder and wrist ached a little and she held them to her chest, but she’d take the small amount of pain caused by being pulled out of the water over actually drowning any day. 

She didn’t recognize the voice of the person behind her at first, and her sluggish mind took time to associate the messy brown hair she could see out of the corner of her eye as belonging to someone she cared about. Sam had saved her? It sounded too good to be true. Why was he even here? 

Her mouth opened to ask him that question, but before she could form words, her lungs spasmed and she coughed violently again, her hand shakily rising to cover her mouth. Sam’s hand lowered to rub her back as she fought to get her breathing under control.

“H-How did you know…” she said, trailing off as she inhaled deeply.

“Don’t worry about it. He won’t hurt you again, alright?” She felt the press of lips against her wet hair. 

Her eyes flicked back to Zach’s prone form; he seemed to be out cold. Her thoughts skipped, tripped and raced ahead, she needed to call the police, she needed to get changed, she needed to _tell her parents ughhh_ , but for the moment, absorbing Sam’s warmth and strength was all she could do.

* * *

Kary was on her way back to the train station, blinking back tears as she tried not to cry. Just because Sam was flying home didn’t mean he was gone forever! Stupid brain. She was trying to suck in deep breaths to keep her chest from feeling too tight, and long blinks helped her fight back against the burning sensation at the corners of her eyes. The city sidewalks passed in a blur as her feet carried her forward on auto pilot, and she stopped at a crosswalk and stared across the street at the lit up Do Not Cross signal. She simultaneously wanted to get home as fast as possible, and yet she didn’t want to actually reach her apartment either. She loved thinking of Sam in that space, not just on a video call but actually with her, hugging her from behind in the kitchen, cuddling with her on the couch, curled around her in her bed, but she knew once she got home, it would feel even more lonely without him there. He said he’d call as soon as he landed, but they’d have a screen between them again…

She was startled out of her reverie when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her backward, and she stumbled in an attempt to catch her feet before she tripped over herself. Gazing up through the curtain of her hair, she nearly lost her footing again when she saw Sam holding onto her elbow. “S-Sam? Did… something happen to your flight?”

His eyes were scanning the road, but when they darted down to her face, he gave her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m not feeling it. I’d rather be here with you so I said fuck it.”

She straightened slowly, her gaze locked with his, and the warmth from his hand on her arm spread over the rest of the skin until her heart swelled in her chest. The automated message for the crosswalk began to play, signaling that it was safe to cross, and she tugged on Sam’s grip to pull him across the street. “Come on! Let’s get back–”

A few things happened far too quickly for her to react: cars honking in warning, an SUV speeding through the intersection straight through the red light, and air rushing past her as her arm was pulled backward again.

She nearly choked on her cry of, “Yikes!!” as the car passed close to her, going so fast that she didn’t even get a glimpse of the driver before it was already gone. Her heart belatedly hammered in her chest, and she kept her feet firmly on the sidewalk out of the intersection as she fought to catch up to what had just happened. She glanced backward, eyes wide with shock. “Holy hell, that was close. Thanks for saving me, Sam.”

She nearly missed him murmuring, “I’m always gonna save you,”his soft response catching her by surprise. He kissed the top of her head and checked the road one more time before leading her into the crosswalk, back toward her home.

* * *

Kary’s shoulders ached with the strain of hanging by her wrists, but another volley of rocks struck her and the dull pain was forgotten in favor of the new, sharp stinging sensations that erupted against her skin. She didn’t know how to get out of this; with her wrists bound and mouth covered in thick tape, she couldn’t cast a single spell. 

A stone whipped against the side of her face, striking her temple and nearly knocking her senseless. The world shifted and stuttered, almost like her vision was playing back on an old film reel. Her world tilted on its axis and she nearly fell to the floor before something hard and warm broke her fall. There was a flash of scenery moving past her and someone was talking, or yelling? Yelling, there was a lot of yelling that quickly faded and became a loud, low, persistent rumble, and she squeezed her eyes shut to keep the loud bursts of sound from making her head spin and pound. Her body seemed to pulse with pain, every heartbeat accentuating her wounds and the splitting headache that was ruling her senses.

“Kary! Hey, open your eyes!!”

She distantly recognized the voice but winced and turned away, his loud shouting making her head throb. Thankfully, the next time he spoke his voice was much softer, almost pleading.

“Come on, Boss, please, just tell me you’re okay.”

Eyes still closed, she opened her mouth to speak but the words she wanted to say were just out of reach, and she frowned. She stumbled over them blindly, trying again and again to find the right one. “Curse…? Cussing… Cushion. Con… Cons…”

Another familiar male voice spoke, sounding a little further away. “Concussion is the word she’s trying to express, I believe. Once we return to the office I can take care of it, but for now we need to get out of here.”

“It’s not far, Boss, hang in there!” This voice was female. “I promise, nothing but online shopping from now on, okay?! Just hang on!!”

More than anything she wanted to reassure them, but she just couldn’t form the words to do it. Between the pounding headache and the inky blackness behind her eyes threatening to suck her away, she was fighting to get anything out and only just managed to form a name with her lips. “Sam…”

“I’m right here. I’ve got you, alright?”

When she hummed and pulled herself closer, nuzzling up against what she belatedly realized was the warm wall of his chest, she heard him say to himself, "Shit, that was close. I don’t know if I’d get another redo…”

His words didn’t make sense to her, but she liked the sound of his voice, the way it reverberated in his chest. Something was stroking her hair and she was lulled into a painless doze. 

* * *

“Don’t go.”

Princess Kary looked up from her valise (how many simple outfits should she pack? More than three?) when she registered the quiet, weighted plea from her knight Aomaris. His intense frown confused her. “I’m not going anywhere, you’ll be right beside me.”

“Not… like that. I mean, don’t go at all.”

He sighed and let go of the trunk lid he was holding to run both of his hands through his hair. The trunk closed with a nearly explosive bang, and Kary reflexively jumped. Where had this come from? He was pacing the room in agitation now, one hand buried in his hair, eyes staring ahead at nothing.

“Aomaris…?” She spoke his name quietly as she pushed the clothing in her hands aside to move toward him. She reached out, fingers barely brushing against his forearm at first before they circled his wrist to pull him to a stop. “Please, talk to me.”

His gaze turned toward her and he watched her for a time, eyes flicking back and forth between hers. The silence dragged on. What was he seeing? She was about to ask her question again when his brows furrowed, his expression clouding. “I… don’t know how else to keep you safe. Something’s going to happen at the summit in Prince Saero’s castle, and you can’t be there.” His hand fell from his hair to cover hers over top of his arm, and his gaze lowered as he squeezed her fingers. “Please, Kary.”

The gravity in his voice sent an involuntary shiver down her spine, and she found herself agreeing before she had even fully thought it through. “All right, I’ll… tell the queen that I’m not feeling well. She won’t be pleased, but I’m certain she’ll allow me to stay. Is that what you need? You’ve never requested anything like this before, not like this…”

He closed his eyes as a heavy sigh of relief escaped his lips. Her mind worked ahead on the ways she could go about informing her mother of her “illness” to ensure minimal backlash, and her thoughts turned toward the other princesses that would be at the summit. “Should… I be worried about the others who are going?” 

Aomaris lowered his forehead to hers, still not meeting her gaze. “I don’t know. I only hope ‘Dessa figures it out in time… This is all I can do.”

She hummed quizzically at his words, not understanding what he was talking about, but he didn’t seem inclined to answer her. She leaned forward, feeling small in his arms, hoping to give him some small modicum of comfort in being there. She had never seen him so shaken to his core over something before, and she hoped that he would explain it to her eventually.

* * *

Kary knew something was wrong the moment that she walked into Daniel Schultz’s office. He had refused to pay the Fairy Mafia’s protection fee for the first time in years, and when she came in person to sort things out, she immediately noticed that the receptionist looked terrified but was trying to hide it. The pale face, averted eyes, ramrod straight posture, tremulous breaths; she had seen it all before, countless times from the many girls she had rescued from the streets. Her thoughts immediately shifted away from her business meeting and she approached the desk quietly, leaning down to ask the receptionist if everything was all right. She knew she probably wouldn’t get a straight answer, but the reply usually would tell her at least something of what the girl was afraid of.

The receptionist jumped up from her chair and slid a foot backward before catching herself. “I’ll, ah, let Mr. Schultz know that you’re here. One moment please,” she stuttered softly before fleeing to her boss’s office. Not afraid of her boss then, afraid of Kary. She held back a sigh; sometimes her reputation got in the way like that. If only the rumors circulated the good as well as the bad, she might be able to help more people.

She was broken out of her thoughts at an unfamiliar voice greeting her with, “Hello, Kary.” When her gaze flicked up to the door to Daniel’s office, she took in the face of the man standing there and her first instinct was to frown; definitely not Daniel. It took a moment but recognition washed over her, sending goosebumps rising over every inch of her skin. She had never met the boys’ infamous drug lord father before, not in person, but she had seen enough photos to be able to identify him. Her heart squeezed tighter with every pounding beat. She was in deep shit. 

Metallic clicks echoed in the quiet lobby and two of his subordinates followed him out of Daniel’s office, hands on the triggers of their handguns. No way could she run without getting gunned down. Then again, having heard how he liked to play with girls he got his hands on, maybe she should give it a shot; dying might be preferable. Damn Daniel to hell for selling her out!! No wonder the receptionist had been scared. Why hadn’t she figured it out and gotten the hell out of there?! Damn softhearted–

“You don’t look excited to see me, Kary,” he mocked as he stepped closer to her, moving with an arrogant gait. “I’m almost offended.”

Kary was torn between shooting sass his way or staying silent when a muffled cry of, “Kary! Down!!” drifted in from outside the lobby door, and without hesitation she dropped to the floor. The door opened with a loud crash and shouts of “Freeze!” and “Police! Drop your weapons!!” sailed over her head. She winced and belatedly covered her ears as the sound of gunfire followed, hoping that staying low to the ground would keep her out of the line of fire. 

The exchange of bullets was mercifully brief, though her ears were still ringing long after those few shots rang overhead. She glanced up from her position on the floor to see both of the lackeys bleeding on the ground, and the drug lord himself was on his knees as the police slowly moved into the office and across the lobby toward them.

The drug lord’s arms slowly settled behind his head, seeming to comply with their orders before one hand shot out and grabbed her by the hair. The police officers began to shout at him to release her, their words blurring together into an annoying buzz as she concentrated on the asshole wrenching her head upward. She didn’t have a lot of leverage from the floor but she shifted her weight to her legs and reached up with both hands. First she pushed his elbow backward at a painful angle until he hissed and released her, then when she had better leverage, she punched him right in his smug fucking face before throwing herself backward out of his reach.

The police rushed in to finally handcuff the drug lord and haul him away, and another officer reached a hand out to help her to her feet. She hesitated, staring at the outstretched hand; now that the more immediate threat was removed, her brain was trying to catch up. Why were the police here? No one but the other fairies were supposed to know that she was heading here.

The answer caught her attention as he squeezed his way into the office, glaring at the drug lord as he was led out of the room in handcuffs before quickly making his way to her side and reaching under her elbow to help her up. Kary jumped to her feet and pulled him aside, not missing the way his father glared over at him as he was led away. “Sam, what are you doing?! He’s going to have you killed if he knows you’re involved! Even if he’s arrested he’ll find a way to–!!”

He cut her off with a growl. “I don’t fucking care. He’s not gonna hurt you this time.” 

Sam tried stepping in front of her but she grabbed his arm and shoved him aside again. What was he doing?! He didn’t know how to fight like she did! She gave him a bewildered look, though he was watching the door, not watching her. “‘This time’?? Sam, what are you–” 

“Don’t worry about it.”

She couldn’t help but worry about it, but her mind was still reeling over all of the events of the previous few minutes to focus too closely on what he had said. The drug lord was in custody, and she recognized her FBI contact Julian among the officers now lingering at the scene. He tipped a finger at her in a little salute as he made his way toward Daniel’s office, no doubt to interrogate him and find out more about his involvement in the setup that had awaited her. 

When Sam pulled her out of her thoughts by giving her a half smile that seemed kind of complicated, she assumed that the cause was that though the bastard was finally in custody, it was still his father. He tugged on her hand and murmured quietly, “Come on, let’s go home.” The police didn’t seem particularly interested in questioning her at the moment, so she wasn’t about to miss the chance to slip away.

* * *

It was only through sheer willpower that Kary managed to get through shooting the music video with Zecaeru and Aomaris without ruining too many takes with laughter. Matthew and Sam introduced themselves to her and invited her to call them by their non-idol names, and then proceeded to pull her into their antics as if they had been friends for years. Every time the director began filming a shot the two were perfectly professional, but the instant that “Cut!” was called, Matthew would be flipping one of his many, many hats in the air, or Sam would spontaneously tackle his brother.

Kary was having fun but still had some trouble opening up. She cursed herself; she had been following Sam’s career as Aomaris for quite some time but had never been able to meet him, and now that he was there and talking to her, she was fighting against every instinct to clam up or giggle inanely. It was getting a little easier as the morning passed, but she still wished she could open up more.

When the crew took a break for lunch, Kary eyed the catering table uncomfortably. Her stomach had been acting up on and off for weeks and she couldn’t bear the thought of actually eating anything. She knew she’d have to force something down eventually, but just about anything she tried eating gave her a stomachache anymore. 

“Hey, Kary…”

Sam was walking up to her, hands in his pockets. His eyes darted over to his brother, who was following the rest of the crew toward the line for the food, before he returned to watching her. He hesitated, averting his gaze briefly before he spoke again. “This is gonna sound crazy, but I heard a rumor that you haven’t really been eating lately. It reminded me of… someone I knew a while back, who had the same kind of problem. She put it off for a long time, figured it was just stress, and then it turned out to be stomach cancer.” 

She gasped quietly, but before she could respond, he continued. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but just get it checked out? It started as something so minor, then…”

She nodded immediately. “All right, I will. …What happened to your friend, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Caught it too late. She died.” 

Her breath left her in a sad exhale. Poor girl. “I’m sorry.” Inane words, but there was nothing else she could say.

“I just don’t want to see it happen again, you know?” His smile was complex, eyebrows furrowed and lips upturned. “Get it checked out, really soon. I don’t want that to happen to you–” His voice cut off, as if his sentence wasn’t over yet, but after he swallowed whatever he was originally going to say, he shrugged a little and his smile widened so she knew he was finished. She nodded and promised him that she would see her doctor soon; she had been meaning to for a while but had been putting it off, and knowing her, she’d have probably put it off even longer without his nudging. 

It had been cancer.  

Sam had saved her life.

The cancer was still far enough along that her doctor believed chemotherapy was the best way to completely eliminate it so that recurrence wasn’t as likely. She had had to give up her career, at least temporarily; she worked with her producer and the other fairies to rearrange her schedule and minimize her appearances without completely disappearing, and they were even kind enough to set her up with a few wigs that would help keep her treatment under wraps from the public. Her schedule was still packed, however; all those administrative meetings in addition to scheduling doctor’s appointments and treatments took up a lot of time.

Sam was there for her every step of the way. She knew how busy an idol’s schedule could be but he always tried his best to make time to visit her as often as possible, especially after her chemotherapy appointments when she felt the worst. She loved the chance to spend time with him, enjoyed the way they were growing closer, but she couldn’t help but briefly wonder if part of him was helping her with her treatment in a way to make up for not being able to save the person in his life who had died. He didn’t like to talk about her; Kary wondered if she’d ever get to know the whole story.

Several harrowing months passed, but once her doctor confirmed that she was in remission, her next goal was to get back to work. She didn’t have the strength or stamina that she used to after her treatment wiped her out so thoroughly, but she worked hard to get back into shape, especially once her producer outlined a plan to hold a comeback concert of sorts with her as the featured idol. All of her energy went into getting back to where she was, or even better; her fans were the reason she had made it this far in such a fickle business, and she owed them all her very best.

Tickets sold out for the concert on the first day. She had insisted on Sam being there to perform with her, and after some finagling with their producers, when she went out on stage and was greeted by a roaring crowd of thousands upon thousands of fans, Sam was at her side, right where she wanted him to be.

* * *

Kary was worried. Sam was supposed to be hunting in the north mountains, but he had openly disobeyed his father’s orders and instead insisted on coming with her on her weekly journey to her mother’s cottage. She had tried everything she could think of to dissuade him; she knew how volatile his father’s wrath could be. However, no amount of persuasion or pleading had deterred him, and now he was walking at her side. He was even quieter than usual, and every sound in the forest seemed to demand his full attention. 

His wolves were traveling with them as well, and seemed to sense the tension that was surrounding Sam’s every movement. Normally they were a little more friendly, but just like the man walking with her, they were on full alert with ears swiveling and noses twitching as they caught the scents of the forest. 

She knew they were wild animals and treated them as such, but that didn’t stop her from giving them treats when she had food to spare. They were keeping their distance today so that she only caught glimpses of most of the pack as they drifted closer before venturing further out again. She had come up with names for ones she recognized: Snowflake for the wolf with the pure white coat, Pup for the one that had forehead markings that reminded her of her brother’s dog, and Danger for the one who always was the first to growl at something new or unexpected. Sam had refused to name them, so she took it upon herself to at least give them names in her mind. She had played with some of them a little, and loved running her fingers through the wiry fur to touch the fluff in their undercoats, but today, there was too much tension in the air for playing. 

The anxiety eating away at her continued to grow, gnawing at her insides and stealing her breath. Her hand clutched at her red cape, knuckles stinging from gripping it so tightly. Sam had refused to explain to her what was wrong, and now the entire forest around them seemed to be tense and quiet, almost as if it were waiting for something. 

Kary fought to find something to say, some way to convince him to head home to placate his father, though the restless edge in the air made her hesitate; despite her earlier misgivings, she was grateful to have him along. Her meager attempts to express her worry were cut short at the sound of a distant wolf growl. She was about to look to see if it was Danger when Sam threw his arm in front of her to keep her from advancing any further, his eyes darting away to scan through the trees. The rest of the pack joined the first in growling one by one, until the forest around them nearly hummed in warning. 

Several tense seconds dragged on, and suddenly Sam pulled her backward just as a loud bark and a soft thump sounded somewhere off to the west, followed by a high pitched whine that sailed right past her. A spark of something caught the edge of her left arm, and it didn’t register as pain until Sam had already drawn an arrow from his quiver, pivoted and fired in less than the time it took for her to blink.

A moment later, a strangled bellow reached her ears as his arrow apparently found its target. Sam stalked in the direction he had fired and she followed behind him to keep close. Their footsteps sounded brittle and thin in the near silence, the sounds of wheezing, gurgling breaths growing steadily louder as they approached the target. 

Kary couldn’t see past him but she assumed they were close by the sounds growing louder until the sickly, sticky rattle seemed to be the only thing she could hear over her own breathing. Before she could look around Sam’s back however, his arm stretched out to the side to keep her from advancing any farther. She reached out to place her hand on his forearm and felt the taut muscles vibrating with barely restrained fury as he growled.

“So it was _you_. No matter how many times I’ve had to fucking deal with you, you’re always a piece of shit, aren’t you?”

It was a person? Someone Sam knew? She had thought that the earlier shout sounded human but she had been holding onto the vain hope that perhaps it wasn’t. Edging slowly around him, her eyes traveled from the a glimpse of boots and leather pants up to an arrow lodged in the man’s ribcage, a hand clutched feebly around the grip of a bow, and finally, a face that she recognized: Sam’s father. His mouth was twisted in a hateful grimace, lips and teeth painted with blood as he choked on his wet wheezing breaths. 

“Is that why you sent me north? Or is your aim that bad, old man?” Sam spat, matching his father’s glare. He had shot his own father. Her mind slowly put the pieces together: the man on the ground was still gripping his bow because he had fired at them, the thump she had heard had been him shooting an arrow in their direction. The stinging sensation she had felt earlier returned in earnest as her attention was drawn to it, and she realized that the arrow his father had fired had grazed her upper arm. Sam had pulled her out of the way just in time. Her gaze returned to arrow lodged in the older man’s chest, and her heart lurched in a mix of fear and sympathy. The man was vile, but did he deserve to die for that? 

“You have _no idea_ what you started, the hell you put me through. Good fucking riddance.” Sam continued glaring for a few moments longer before he turned and blindly grabbed Kary’s arm to pull her away. Unfortunately for her, he grabbed the arm that was freshly wounded from his father’s arrow and a cry caught in her throat as he led her back to the forest. As she fought to make a sound past the dam in her throat, she heard the liquidous breathing from behind her slowly taper off into a final silence. 

“Sam– _please_ –” she choked out, her plea ending in a high pitched whine, and he immediately loosened his grip and turned toward her. His eyes widened when his hand came away from her arm stained red with blood. 

“Are you all right?” he murmured quietly, his eyes meeting hers before his attention turned toward her arm. He gently pulled at the red cloth that covered the wound so that he could inspect it, and he winced sympathetically with her sharply indrawn breath. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t– I thought he missed…”

Kary watched him, jaw unconsciously clenched, as he pulled the fabric of her cloak away from the gash on her arm. Her eyes followed his movements as her mind raced ahead, trying to make sense of the events of the past few minutes. The man before her who was tending her wound with considerate touches and purposeful care was completely at odds with the one who had stood over his dying father moments before, having shot him without regret.

When he was almost finished wrapping the wound, she accidentally murmured something that caught his attention. She hadn’t meant to speak, so she scrambled to find something to say and went with the first words that came to her mind. “What was that about? Please… I know he’s not a good person, but he’s your father, Sam.”

His expression immediately froze over, turning cold and hard again as he glanced over her shoulder in the direction they had come from. “He deserved it.”

The quiet fury in his tone had her skin prickling with chilled shivers. “How can you say that?”

“He would have killed you.”

“But he didn’t!”

“He _did_ –!” His head snapped down so that he could meet her eyes, and she found something beneath the anger: desperation. Sadness. Regret. She felt the distinct notion that something had happened, something she hadn’t seen, and it was fueling the events that had just occurred, but she couldn’t put the pieces together.

Sam exhaled heavily before his gaze dropped to the ground, though his hand moved to brush against hers with a reassuring touch. “Look. If I lost you, I just know I’d end up doing something stupid, okay? Just… trust me on this.”

A cool, dry nose pushed itself against her other hand and she looked down to see the wolf she recognized as Danger nuzzling against her fingers before looking up at her. Was he worried about her because she had been injured? Or was he trying to tell her something?

Seconds ticked by before she spoke. “Tell me, I want to know.” When he hesitated, she pressed him again. “Please, Sam.” She wanted to understand. She was so close to him, loved him with all of her heart, and she knew there had to be some explanation for his actions.

His green eyes met hers, irises shifting in a way that caught her off guard. She suddenly found fantastical thoughts rising into her mind, like maybe this was a different Sam than the one she was used to: the same man, but this one had seen different things, other worlds, maybe other Karys? But then he blinked and gave her a small half smile, exhaling heavily almost in a soft laugh, and the sound was so familiar and comforting that the idea dissipated from her mind. His fingers threaded through hers on her right hand and he resumed their journey in the direction of her mother’s cottage at a leisurely pace. He swallowed thickly before he began, though his tone was light as if he were telling a story. “If I had gone to the north forest like my father wanted, then he wouldn’t have missed. It’d have been days before I found you. And then I’d have panicked, and gotten this crazy idea…”

* * *

Images of her and Sam blurred together in her sleep laden mind, warping as they slipped from her one by one. Sensations came back to her in slow rolling waves: warmth pressed up against her cheek, the soft smells of Sam and home, faint light intruding against her closed eyelids. Carrie allowed the pieces of her dreams to drift away slowly as her eyes cracked open, registering details around her. No light coming from behind the curtains; it was still sometime during the night. The nightstand lamp was on. A warm chest that smelled and felt like Sam was beneath her cheek. Warmth surrounded her and she slowly became aware of his arm at her back, thumb stroking lazily along her spine. She inhaled deeply in shock when it finally sunk in that Sam was here with her. When had he come home?

She shifted, muscles pulling together to shake off sleep, and she mulled over some of the images she had dreamt, waiting for them to slip away from her grasp. But rather than dissolving into a misty haze like dreams usually do, she felt them settle into her mind, still able to recall them with sharp perfection. …They weren’t dreams. _They were memories_.

Scarcely able to breathe, her head tilted to the side so that she could look up at Sam’s face. “I think I got that time travel thing figured out,” he murmured, his voice filling the room even though he spoke quietly. His self-satisfied grin dissolved in a watery haze as her eyes filled with tears.

He had corrected every cursed death, every unjust ending. The soft weight of new memories came to rest in her mind, countless carefree moments of past lives that were lived to their fullest, a nearly endless supply of happily ever afters. Her eyes swept over his expression, or at least what she could see of it past her tears, and the blur seemed to take shape in showing her his loving gaze in every incarnation across every lifetime. Her lips parted as she choked in an attempt to breathe, her heart pushing against her ribs as it swelled.

“You… fixed everything.” Her words were nearly inaudible, barely formed before they slipped past her lips. 

It was a statement, not a question, but he responded with a nod anyway. His free hand rose to brush against her cheek, fingers pushing away a loose strand of hair that had fallen past her eyes. “Least I could do, since everything was my own damn fault in the first place.”

She blinked in confusion, several more tears tumbling down her cheeks as she did so. He still blamed himself? “Sam, you didn’t do anything wrong. That was lifetimes ago anyway.” 

“Doesn’t matter. I promised to protect you and I didn’t. I won’t let it happen again.” The absolute conviction in his voice made her shiver. She felt something warm smudge against her cheek in contrast to the minute chills that were washing over her, and belatedly realized he was wiping her tears away. 

Sam’s chest rapidly expanded beneath her as he took in a deep breath and held it before speaking again. “Carrie… Marry me. The demon way, I mean. Since the curse is broken, there’s nothing tying us together anymore. I want to find you again and this is the only way I know how, I want… I mean, only if you do, but… I know I do.”

 _Yes!_ Before the word could work its way from her mind to her mouth, however, the rest of what he had said caught up in her mind. No more curse. Nothing tying them together. He had been chained to her for so many lifetimes without a choice, because of a curse. For the first time, he might be able to be free to make his own decisions rather than be forced to be with her. 

“Sam, I want to, but…” Carrie fought to put her apprehension into words. She loved him, more than anything, but that minuscule grain of doubt had worked its way into her brain. His chest tensed beneath her and she could feel him hold his breath. _Spit it out, already!_ “I’m just… a little worried. I know it sounds dumb, but… it was the curse that brought us together every time, right? What if… what if that was the only reason you liked me? What if you wanted to be with someone else in your next life?” _What if I’m not good enough on my own for you to fall for me?_

When he let out a disgusted-sounding groan, she involuntarily winced and lowered her head. “Ugh. I wish I wasn’t shit with words.” He paused, then leaned forward enough to lightly knock his forehead against hers. “Look, it’s never been like that. I love you so much that I cursed us both for all fucking eternity, just for the chance to see you again. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Both of his hands rose to cup her cheeks and he directed her to look up at him with a soft tug, his gentleness bordering on reverence. She fought back a renewed wave of tears at the tenderness she saw in his gaze and the overpowering love she could feel through his fingertips. Warm, cold, tender, scarred, his hands always touched her the same way: with the intent to hold her forever.

“You’re always the girl I love, Carrie. Always.”   



End file.
